InFamous: Rewritten
by Katdog161
Summary: A rewrite of the first InFamous game. What if Cole wasn't the only conduit created by the ray sphere? Will Cole be able to stay alive long enough to escape Empire City with his strange new partner? (Please note mature rating) (Will be a Cole/OC pairing)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: A rewrite of the first InFamous story. (Kinda felt bad for Cole in the game, his girlfriend hating him and everything. And then she dies and he's alone.) Much of this story is already written but I am not overly happy with it, so it is in the process of being polished. It's actually over 50,000 words so if you want something long to read, it's coming lol.

Anyhow, I hope it's not as bad as I think it is lol. I'm really not the best writer, but I try.

Mature rating for blood, violence, cursing, sex (in later chapters), etc. Fair warning.

/

Cole MacGrath knew he was dying. He had to be. There was no way he could survive this kind of pain. Every part of him burned like it was on fire. Maybe he was in hell, that had to be it... He could feel that he was lying on his stomach, though how he had gotten like this he couldn't remember...

_Heart rate 55, respiration 10, temperature 99.1... looking good, Cole._

He opened his eyes, and his first thought was that he really was in hell. There were blazing fires everywhere, ruined buildings, and smoke. Pillars of black smoke obscured the sky. Buildings that had once stood tall and shining lay in crumbling ruins. Worst of all were the bodies. Dozens of corpses were strewn about, some horribly burned, some ripped apart, some... were still moving. Cole grunted, squinted through the smoke and hoisted himself up on one elbow. There was a woman still alive out there, he had to get to her... They had to get out of here. He started crawling towards her.

The woman turned, and Cole gasped, sucking in a horrible burning breath of smoke and ash. Coughing, he watched in horror as the woman bent her head to look at the piece of metal that had impaled her though the stomach all the way out her back. He could just make out the red splashes of blood on her hands. The woman sank to her knees and tilted her head back, arms falling limply by her sides. Cole tried to get up but his legs gave out beneath him, and he only ended up sprawled on the ground once again. The wind started to blow against him, sending dust flying into his face. He blinked through the debris. Then his mind went numb as the woman began to disappear.

He thought he must be seeing things, the woman was dissolving in the wind, simply breaking apart. Despite her wound, she tried to stand again, giving a desperate wail of despair as her legs began to vanish. As she began to fall she was finally gone, leaving nothing behind but a shimmer of silver dust and the bloody piece of metal that had been inside her. Cole blinked and even the blood stained instrument of death had gone, leaving him wondering if she'd really been there at all.

The man tried to stand though his legs still felt like jelly. His mind was still numb, this all was so surreal. He didn't know what to do or where to go. He could hear people screaming in the distance. A helicopter hovered overhead, its spotlight lighting up different pieces of the horror surrounding him. He took an awkward step forward, his mind still uncertain of its objective.

He had just decided on the direction he wanted to go when he noticed several downed power lines sparking on the ground. Cole started to back up when he felt a giant tug in his chest, and instead of backing up, his feet stumbled involuntarily forward. He was mere feet from the downed lines when bolt of pure white lightning arched out of the exposed ends and struck Cole squarely in the chest.

/

Cole was unconscious, his mind was trapped in darkness. The voices of those dying around him were echoing in his mind, an endless litany of death, replaying over and over. He struggled to wake up, needing to escape. Every scream of terror was a knife in his chest. But the death march continued, hopeless souls crying their grief straight into his head. Occasionally the darkness would clear, and he'd see the woman, the woman who'd dissolved into dust in front of him. Blood would be gushing from her abdomen, and she'd scream and cry until she finally faded into nothing as Cole tried to get to her. Then the darkness would return, the dead howling their never ending agony.

Suddenly there was a blinding white light just ahead. Something possessed him to want throw himself into it, to dissolve into nothingness in that burning whiteness. Anything would be better than continuously listening to the voices of the dying, or seeing that poor girl bleeding to death while he watched. Gathering up the last of his strength, he submersed himself in that white fire. But what he didn't realize that it wasn't light or fire, it was lightning. Pure, unhindered electricity poured through his limbs, pushed its way down his throat, crawled under his skin, and rooted itself in his heart.

Cole's hazel eyes snapped open. He sat bolt upright. He was in the hospital, dressed in a simple gown and laying in a gurney. Trish was sleeping in a chair next to him. He looked down at his hands.

_I was just hallucinating after being blown up. I wasn't electrocuted. I definitely wasn't hearing people dying in my mind. That was a dream. A very sick dream..._

He certainly felt sick. As much as he wanted to believe it was a dream, it had felt so real, those voices... and that woman, more of a girl really. She had seemed so young... just a few years younger than him maybe. But it couldn't have been real... he had to hold onto that.

He reached out to wake Trish when sparks began flashing between his fingers. Cole leaped out of bed, cursing. Trish must have really been out, because his long stream of cuss words didn't even make her twitch in her sleep.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck... What the hell is going on?_

Cole staggered into the bathroom and fumbled for the light switch. Harsh fluorescent light filled the room. Cole stared into the mirror at his reflection. It seemed normal enough... Hazel eyes looked back at him from his chiseled face. His short light brown hair and goatee looked just like he remembered. The only thing that was different was a deep ragged cut stretching from the outer corner of his right eye down his cheek. He could tell it was deep because it had been stitched up.

He ripped off the hospital gown, so far past caring about modesty. His entire body was covered in scratches and burns in different stages of healing. His left leg was completely wrapped in bandages. He saw with some relief that his junk had escaped unscathed. That just left the question of what the hell happened and why was he electrocuting himself. As he reached out to flip the lights off again a bolt of lightning sped from his fingertips, and the light bulb shattered. Cursing once again, he shook the bits of glass from his shoulders.

He dragged the hospital gown back on and went back to where Trish was sitting. He noticed with another flood of relief that she had brought him fresh clothes. He quickly pulled them on, very much needing that small piece of normalcy. His mind was racing, he didn't know what to think. This much he knew... something terrible had happened in the city. He'd woken up in the middle of it. He'd seen the death and destruction. But that didn't explain the electricity, why he was zapping things...

"Cole? Are you all right?"

Trish had finally woken up, and she was looking at him with concern.

"Trish, what's going on?"

"Cole, what are you doing out of bed? You should be sleeping," Trish said sternly.

"Trish, I feel fine, I need to know what happened," Cole replied urgently. It was a lie, he definitely was not fine, but he had more pressing things on his mind. Trish hung her head sadly.

"There was an explosion, Cole," she said softly. "Half the historic section of town was wiped out... we found you in the middle of it. It's a miracle you were still alive."

Cole spun in a circle, his hands on his head. Half the historic section of town, gone, just like that. No, there was more to it than that...

"That can't be all... what else?" Cole said somewhat angrily.

"It's... it's bad out there, Cole," Trish said hesitantly. "After the explosion, people started getting sick, the news channels were calling it a plague, so the government... they locked us in here. We're in quarantine."

"What?!" Cole said, running to the window and ripping the curtains to the side. He didn't know what he expected to see. People panicking in the streets? More bodies? Smoke and fire? In fact, he did see smoke, what remained of the destroyed section of the historic section of town was still smoking. The bridges out of town had been raised. So they really were trapped in here. He looked down. People were milling around aimlessly in the streets. They didn't look sick...

"What kind of sickness?" Cole asked, his voice quiet.

"People start vomiting black fluid, and they get very weak and disoriented... and then go absolutely crazy. They start attacking other people," Trish said uncomfortably. He knew she would hate the fact that she couldn't help.

"What?" Cole said, alarmed. "How long have I been out?"

"Nearly two weeks, Cole," Trish said.

"Why are were here then!?" Cole practically shouted. "We need to get somewhere safe."

"Cole, hang on," Trish began, but Cole wasn't having any of it. He grabbed Trish's wrist and began marching her from the room. However, just as they reached the door, the power flickered and went out. For being so hesitant to leave a second ago, Trish was suddenly possessed with a desire to leave and fast.

"Cole, we've gotta go!" she hissed, bolting ahead of him and throwing the door open, dragging Cole down the hall.

"Why, the powers gone out, that's all," Cole huffed irritably as she nearly wrenched his arm from its socket.

"Yeah, remember when I said it was bad out there?" Trish snapped, ducking behind a stack of boxes. "Some people have been raiding buildings, and it was only a matter of time before they came here."

"But what about the patients on... life support and stuff? Don't you have an emergency backup generator?" Cole said uneasily, thinking about his dreams where hundreds of people died in his head. He didn't want more dead people in his head. Trish glared at him as if he'd said something insensitive.

"Cole, that generator was broken days ago. Those patients are already dead," Trish said, dragging her hands through her short brown hair so that it stuck out on one side.

"Sorry, I didn't know," Cole said, suddenly aware of why Trish was so upset. The deaths of all those patients on life support would have deeply disturbed her.

The two of them inched along the darkened hall, Trish out in front. Cole's hands began sparking at random; he was unable to control it. He hid his hands in his jacket pockets. How he was going to keep this a secret from Trish for very long he had no idea. He only knew he didn't want to see the look on her face when she found out.

"We're almost to the lobby," Trish said, turning to face Cole. Cole tried to arrange his features into an innocent expression. "Once we're out, just run. These bandits have guns, and they'll kill anybody who gets in their way."

"Isn't there anybody else here?" Cole said, looking at the ceiling to the floors above them. "Shouldn't we be warning them or something?" His hands twitched in his pockets. Electric sparks tickled his fingers. There was an amazing amount of tension in his muscles. He felt like a time bomb waiting to go off. Cole grit his teeth trying to hold the feeling in. He knew Trish must be upset by all the deaths of people in the city, but why was she being so uncaring all of a sudden?

"I'll explain later," Trish said, her tone of voice making it clear that she was done talking about this. "We really need to go."

The two of the rounded the corner into the lobby. The double sliding glass doors where the ambulances would pull up were straight ahead. The only problem was the group of armed men blocking the way out. Cole came to an abrupt halt and threw out out his arms, blocking Trish from view.

There were about five guys. Three of them had guns. The pressure inside Cole was building rapidly. The man in front leered at Cole, displaying his yellow uneven teeth.

"This place is ours now," the man said, gesturing around the lobby with his gun. "You two better leave if you know what's good for you."

Cole reached back and grasped Trish's hand, pulling her towards the doors. He didn't trust himself to speak. He felt like he might puke voltage.

"This place isn't yours!" Trish projected loudly from behind him.

"Trish!" Cole hissed, not looking back at her. He hadn't taken his eyes off their weapons. Cole had been in a few fights before and he was no push over, but he didn't fancy his chances against five guys with guns. His arms convulsed involuntarily as he continued to try and hold in this feeling rising in his chest. He was sure that if he had to fight he was going to pass out or explode or both. "Be quiet, let's just go!"

"You got something to say to us?" the lead guy said, his eyes narrowing.

"No," Cole said through gritted teeth. His right eye twitched, making Cole aware of the stitches down the side of his face. One of the other guys in the group sniggered.

"Look at him, doesn't look like he'll even make it out," he said, laughing unkindly at Cole's convulsions. "What's the matter, pretty boy? Scared?"

"Cole?" Trish's worried voice echoed in his head, but Cole hardly noticed. He was too busy wondering why everything was turning blue. Holding this inside was proving to be way too hard... Cole sank to his knees.

"Cole?" Trish said again, and Cole felt a hand on his shoulder. The hand was very quickly withdrawn with a squeal of pain.

"Did you see that?" came from one of the men.

"Lightning just came off of him..." another guy said.

Cole frowned and looked around at Trish from his kneeling position. She was backing away from him, looking horrified. Cole blinked slowly. Everything was tinged blue now, people were outlined in glowing halos. He glanced at his hands. They were sparking again. Shit.

"He's a freak!" the lead guy shouted. "Kill him!"

Cole saw the guy raising his gun as if in slow motion. With absolutely no plan in his head, Cole lifted his hand, stretching it out towards the threat in front of him. The pressure in his chest was mounting rapidly. There was no way he could stop this... A bolt of pure blue lightning flew from his palm, striking the man in front of him directly in the face. The man fell forward, his head hitting the hard floor with a sickening crack.

"Shoot him! Put him down!"

There was a scream. Trish was howling behind him over the man's words. The other two guys with guns lifted their weapons and fired. Cole felt the bullets hit his leg and arm like he was in a dream; he barely felt their impact. He raised his other hand. Power soared from his fingers, hitting each bandit in the room. They all collapsed, hitting the floor with muffled thuds. The lobby was filled with the sounds of groaning men. The sound stopped shortly after. Cole wasn't sure if they were dead or not. The blue light in Cole's eyes faded, and his vision returned to normal.

Cole lowered his shaking arms. Blood was oozing from the bullet wounds in his arm and leg. He felt his breathing slowing down. Now that the rush of power had gone, he knew he was dying. He would bleed out right here in the lobby. It seemed like such a strange way to die, when he was sure he should have died in that explosion... Trish was still looking at him as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Yeah, he definitely should have died then.

Cole clenched his hand over the bullet hole in his arm. Instantly, his blood started spurting between his fingers, staining his clothing crimson. He could still feel the power swirling in his chest, though the pressure had gone. It was a long shot, but maybe... He reached inside himself, to the energy that had just killed five men. He wasn't going to die like this.

Electricity pulsed through his blood. Cole doubled up in pain, curling up on his side in the red puddle that was spreading underneath him. He sensed that Trish had knelt down by his side. Power pulsed through him again and the pain faded away. He heard Trish say his name. His breathing was coming more evenly now.

"Cole?" Trish said hesitantly. Cole glanced up at her from his position on the floor. She was still staring at him as if he were some mutant freak, which he supposed he was now. Cole lifted himself up from his puddle of blood. Looking down at his gunshot wounds, he saw with some shock that they were completely healed. Not even a mark remained.

"Cole... what was that?" Trish said, her voice shaking.

"I... I don't know," Cole said, pushing himself into a sitting position, smearing his blood all over the tile in the process. "I swear I don't know, Trish. I just woke up this way. I didn't know I could do any of that!" He could hear the pleading note in his voice, begging her not to hate him.

Cole couldn't place the look on her face. Was it disgust? Fear? Worry?

"I don't know what to tell you, Cole," Trish said eventually. She reached out cautiously and put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay."

Cole bit his lip. It didn't sound like she was glad. She sounded like she didn't know what to think. Her eyes were still wide and staring.

"Cole?" Trish said, reaching out to touch his face. "You were dead."

"What?" Cole said, his stomach clenching painfully. Dead... there were too many thoughts of death lately. Too much death in general. "No... no I didn't die. Whatever that was, it healed me."

"No, I mean during the explosion, when we found you... you were dead," Trish whispered, her fingers trembling on his cheeks. "You had no pulse, you weren't breathing..."

"But I was! I mean, I woke up..." Cole left his sentence go unfinished. That was when he had seen the girl die... He didn't want to think about it.

Trish was shaking her head.

"You were gone," she said slowly. "I was taking you to the morgue when I noticed there was a pulse in your neck..."

Cole shuddered, glad that he hadn't woken up in the morgue. Then he noticed the tears in Trish's eyes.

"You don't know how hard it was... first Amy, then you..."

"What do you mean?" Cole asked.

"Amy died in the explosion," Trish said so faintly he barely heard her. "And then I thought you were dead too..."

"I'm sorry," Cole said. The instant he said it he felt hollow and insincere. It was a programmed response, but still... as her boyfriend, Cole felt like he should had done more, offered more. Trish gazed into his eyes for a moment and then turned away from him. Cole's heart sank.


	2. Chapter 2

That night he dreamed of ghosts.

The dead just wouldn't leave him alone. In his dream, he walks the streets of Empire city and watches it burn. The flames lick the sky as charred corpses lurch from the buildings. Then came the spirits. Ghosts of every shape and size drifted through windows, rose out of the concrete, and floated between vehicles on the street. They were all silent as they circled him. Cole tries to back away but he finds himself stuck in a corner.

This is it. This is where he would die. The dead were going to take him with them. A single female spirit breaks away from the others and comes forward.

"You should be dead," the spirit says, its voice as quiet as a breeze.

"I know," Cole manages to respond. The spirit of the girl seems to consider him. Her white eyes flashed. Cole felt like his soul was laid bare before this spirit. If she wanted, this girl could have snapped her fingers and Cole would have dropped dead, his spirit leaving his body to join this legion of ghosts.

Clearly his continued existence is all a huge mistake. He should be six feet under right now.

As if reading his mind, the spirit girl speaks again.

"It's no mistake," she whispers. The other ghosts around her seem to be growing restless, but the girl ignores them. "You still have some life left to burn."

"I do?" Cole says uncertainly. The spirit nods slowly.

"Yes," she says slowly. "But don't squander the time you have, or your fate will be ever sadder than ours."

"I won't," Cole answers, relieved. The other spirits begin to dissipate, except for the girl spirit. Cole starts to move when he notices blackened corpses grabbing him around the ankles. He falls forward on to the pavement, hands scrabbling at anything to hold onto as the charred, oozing corpses begin to drag him backwards.

"Wait!" Cole cries out to the spirit. "I thought you said I had time left!?"

"You are alive for a reason, Cole MacGrath," the spirit says, regarding him with her cold, dead eyes. "You must change the future."

"What?" Cole gasps desperately. But the girl spirit disappears into mist. The dead drag Cole down into a pit and the ground crumbles on top of him, burying him alive.

/

Cole was alone, wandering the ruined streets. Trish was being so distant, like she was blaming him for being alive instead of her sister. That thought really hurt. It wasn't his fault Amy was dead... was it? Sparks traced their way through his fingers. Cole had gotten so used to this that he barely noticed. He hardly had any control over it anyway. There was no point trying to stop it.

He didn't come across many people on his walk, and the few he did come across veered away from him so quickly you'd have thought he had fangs. Sighing, he ducked down an alley. He felt at home here. Urban exploration had always been a hobby of his. A sort of, kind of illegal hobby that Trish frowned on but he'd never been able to bring himself to give it up.

Still, it bothered him that so many people were avoiding him now. He knew what people had thought of him even before this whole disaster happened. Big, bulky, scary Cole MacGrath. He supposed he was big and muscular, that was a result of his hobby and his job as a bike courier. Scary he didn't understand. He was just a normal guy who wanted what every other guy on the planet wants. That being a nice home, a nice girl, and a job bringing home the bacon.

Well, he'd gotten the first two. He had a decent apartment and a nice girlfriend. The only thing was... he wished he was the one who brought in the most money. He supposed that was a bit misogynistic of him, but still... once Trish became a doctor, what would she need him for? She'd have all the money she needed. Maybe she'd keep him around for sex, but even that seemed unlikely lately. She hadn't let him touch her in weeks.

Not that he blamed her, now... a single touch from him could kill her, if he let what pathetic control he had over his powers slip...

He noodled his way through the twisting side streets, his mind still wandering. That's when he heard the crying. He turned, expecting to see a crazy person huddled by a garbage can. But no... it was a child. Cole immediately knew why the child was crying. His arm was broken, bent at an unnatural angle. He should know, he'd broken his arm a few times.

Cole nearly bit his tongue in his indecision. Should he try and help this kid? Trish would have tried to help, but Cole had no idea what to do. Then it hit him. Maybe that power could help the kid too... He held out his hand, pinching his eyes shut to focus. Blue light pulsed around his fingers. Before the kid could move, Cole pushed the energy away from him.

A few seconds later, the child's tears ceased. Cole opened his eyes.

The kid gave him a look like he'd just seen either an angel or the devil. Then he got up and ran off. Cole was in shock. He couldn't believe that had actually worked! The man stood up, still gaping at his own hands.

_Man, if Trish ever found out about this she'd be so jealous... _

He was about to run off to go tell his girlfriend when the breeze drifting between the buildings suddenly became a gale, blowing debris all over the place. Cole let the wind push him along as he went, not that he had much choice. And then it stopped... but as it stopped, Cole heard someone speak.

"That was a very nice thing you just did."

Cole whipped around, but there was no one there. Nothing but trash.

"Hello?" he called uncertainly.

No one appeared. No other voices spoke. Cole was starting to feel jumpy. Even though he couldn't see or hear anyone, he felt like he was being watched.

As he ran back to his apartment, he was sure he heard amused laughter following him in the air.

/

Cole was feeling nauseous. Normally heights weren't a big deal for him, but he wasn't normally one hundred feet in the air dangling by one hand off a city monument. And even that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the mob assembled below him. Most of whatever they were screaming was lost in the wind whipping by, but Cole still caught a few words of it.

"Terrorist!"

"Murderer!"

"Monster!"

Cole wanted to yell back at them to try and defend himself, but he could barely remember anything from the day of the blast. What would he say? He was sure he must have gone to work like always, but... then what? As far as he could work out, he must have just been unfortunate enough to be nearby when the bomb went off. What made no sense at all was how he had gotten this power over electricity form being in close proximity to an explosion. Common sense told him that people didn't usually get super powers from being blown up. They would just be... well, dead.

Everyone thought he'd planted the bomb. But even thought he couldn't remember anything from before the blast, Cole was positive he hadn't orchestrated it. Why would he want to get himself blown to pieces? It was obviously just some sort of freak misunderstanding, with the emphasis on _freak._

His hand was getting tired, but he didn't want to get any lower. Any lower and they'd be able to hit him with rocks, although why none of them had thought to simply shoot him was beyond him. He switched his hands.

"I didn't fucking do it!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. It was pointless to yell, they probably couldn't hear him anyway, but it felt good to say it out loud. At least he could get that off his chest before he plummeted to his death and was subsequently eaten alive by the mob.

Then he made the mistake of looking down. That's when he saw her.

Trish was standing there at the front of the group, quietly looking up at him. She wasn't yelling or shaking her fist, but even from one hundred feet in the air, Cole could sense her disappointment. Was she waiting for him to fall, hoping for it even? He had to try and make it right.

"I didn't do it, Trish! It's not true!" he yelled, kicking his foot against the metal monument that he was hanging off of.

But even as he said that, he could feel the power he'd gained churning in his abdomen. It was the strangest feeling. It felt like having a full stomach, except that he was starving. And he'd been starting to gain some control over it. He could almost always hold the electricity inside him now, and only release it when he meant to.

He could see how people could come to the conclusion that he'd done this. Maybe he'd set the whole thing up to get super powers. Wait, even that didn't make sense. What was he supposed to be, some kind of mad scientist? Yeah, a guy who delivered packages on a bike for a living was totally an evil genius.

"I was set up!" Cole roared over the sound of the wind. "I never planted a bomb! That's fucking crazy! You're all crazy!"

Maybe he shouldn't have said that. The screaming of the crowd only got louder and angrier. How long was he going to have to hang here until they all got bored and left? He considered shooting some lightning bolts to try and scare them off, but that probably wouldn't help his case that he was innocent.

His arms were starting to shake with fatigue. Cole wasn't sure how much longer he could hang on. He was sure his shoulder was going to be dislocated by the end of this. Not that he would know it for long because he would fall to his death and be ripped to shreds.

Lightning crackled in the sky. Cole looked up and sighed. Apparently nature was eager to finish him off too. Black clouds were rolling in. A few minutes later raindrops began landing on his face.

Cole could feel his hands getting slippery. It wouldn't be long now. He'd lose his grip on the statue and he'd be dead. He tried to feel sad for himself. It wasn't exactly hard, but this was all so surreal it was like he was feeling sorry for somebody else. He wondered how bad it would hurt when he hit the ground. Who really wants to have time to think before they die, Cole thought angrily.

Shit, Cole thought. He'd have to try and climb back down and risk being caught by the mob. At least then he might have a chance to live through today. He started edging down the statue's arm. He had just reached the elbow when a rock came sailing out of nowhere and hit him hard in the small of his back. That was enough to make him lose his grip. Cole felt his fingers slip from the slick metal and the next thing he knew, he was looking up at the black clouds.

Afterward, he could barely explain how he survived. All he knew was that one second he was looking at the clouds, and the next he had somehow twisted in mid air like a cat a split second before his feet slammed into the ground. A second later, more thunder and lightning clashed above Cole's head. The sky rumbled so loudly the mob hesitated and quieted down, most people looking up at the storm. Cole was still standing where he had landed, completely stunned. How had he done that and not been squashed flat? He glanced up at the sky briefly too. The thunder was so loud, he'd never heard thunder that loud before...

The mob was recovering from their initial surprise, seeming to decide that Cole was a bigger threat than the storm. They began to close in on the man they perceived to be a demon. Cole turned on the spot, there was nowhere to run.

"Stay back!" Cole snarled, raising his sparking hands. "I'm warning you!"

Thunder rolled over the crowd, making them pause once again. Cole stopped dead in his tracks. There it was again, that feeling building up in his gut... He could feel his own terror feeding it, giving it power. Lightning flashed above his head. Mouth now hanging open in horror, Cole's eyes rose to look at he storm swirling above them as the pieces fell into place in his head. Rain fell into his eyes from those ominous black clouds.

_I did this. I called this storm. I'm creating it, feeding it..._

Cole's attention was diverted from his horrified staring as a big beefy man suddenly lunged at him.

"No, don't!" he screamed, trying to back away. The storm was too big now, too strong to control... just like he was. Cole swiftly began clenching his muscles even as he ducked the man's initial blow. The storm inside him had to be contained, or more people would die. But Cole was fenced in, and the man collided with Cole, knocking him to the ground. Cole landed on his ass, bumping into a woman behind him.

The crowd was snapping out of it's confusion of seeing him survive that fall and its fear of the storm. They started screaming at Cole, and egging on the large man who was gearing up to attack him. The woman he'd bumped into pushed him away with a sneer.

From his position on the ground, Cole quickly took in his attacker. The man was large and muscled, wearing a dirty T-shirt and ratty jeans. Cole wasn't sure he could take down a guy like that without using his powers. And he didn't want to kill anyone...

So when the big guy reached down and yanked him up by the collar of his jacket, Cole kept his power in check.

"I've been hoping for this, freak," the guy said, baring his teeth in Cole's face. The crowd closed in around them. It seemed like now that they knew Cole was trapped, they were willing to watch him be tortured by the big man. They wanted his death to be a show.

Cole didn't say anything, just strained against the man's grip.

"You killed my girl," the guy snarled in Cole's face. "I saw you talking to her, moving in on her."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cole choked, still mostly focused on containing his energy. The rain crept down under his clothes. Lightning snaked around the sky, like it was watching the violence too.

Cole was thrown to the muddy ground. As he tried to get up, a foot connected with his chest, forcing the air from his lungs. The big man knelt down by his side.

"You're a damn liar!" he spat. "She would have been mine if it weren't for you!"

Cole's thoughts were feeling muddled after being kicked around and realizing that he was causing a massive storm. But he knew an arrogant asshole when he heard one.

"You're a fucking shithead," Cole murmured through bloody lips.

Cole winced as he was yanked to his feet yet again. A fist connected with the side of his head, sending him stumbling backwards. Cole wasn't sure if it was water or blood all over his face. Thunder clapped in the sky.

"Stop!" he pleaded, not for himself, but for them. He wiped his face with his sleeve. This would just be a repeat of the hospital only much, much worse. The power had him now, and it wasn't going to let him go. Lightning and electricity, unless controlled, would destroy everything around him.

"Kill him!" someone behind Cole shrieked. As the big guy circled him, Cole's mind worked wildly to think of an escape. His heart pounded against his ribs, valiantly keeping him alive. Electricity pulsed in his arteries along with his own blood. He had never quite appreciated how awesome it was just to be _alive. _

"I'll kill you for her," the guy growled. "You took her from me!"

The beefy man pulled out a long knife from his belt. Water dripped from the tip of the blade. Bolts of lightning traced their way over Cole's wet skin and clothes. Cole held up his sparking hands.

"Back off!" he growled, putting all of his desperation into this last plea. As he feared, the man didn't listen. The enemy lunged forward, and Cole, with nowhere to go, felt the blade sink into his shoulder. Cole groaned and sank to his knees. Rain mixed with his blood that soaked his clothes. He held his breath. It was close to the surface now, so close...

_No, not again..._

The beefy man was now grinning down at Cole, raising the knife again, preparing to stab him once more. Unable to watch his own death, Cole stared up at the storm clouds. In the wind he thought he could hear a voice begging for mercy for him, trying to stop his murder. Who was trying to save him?

Cole let out the breath he had been holding, and the world was torn apart. White lightning split the sky, aiming for the bleeding man kneeling in the middle of the mob. The bolt struck the wounded man and a scream tore from his bloody lips. His body convulsed as he took in the power and he fell sideways onto the asphalt. But he couldn't contain it, it strained the bounds of his willpower, and overwhelmed every sense he had.

An explosion rocked the whole park as the power easily broke the limits of Cole's control. Thunder shook the asphalt. Lightning flew from his skin, leaping over the wet ground, blasting through anyone in its path. The crowd's screams of rage changed to screams of terror. Those who hadn't been hit fled in fear. The ones who had been hit either lay dead or twitching on the ground.

Rain continued to fall, slowly soaking Cole's clothes. Minutes dragged by.

Cole regained his senses and began gasping for breath. His eyes wouldn't open. Even without his sight, he knew what he would see and he hated it. Having seen it once before, it scared the shit out of him. There would be more death, and it would be his fault. Still struggling to draw a breath that didn't make his chest feel like it was full of knives, Cole rolled over onto his stomach and began to crawl.

He hadn't gotten far before his hands landed on a body. Fear jolted his senses and he stumbled backwards, hyperventilating. He'd just seen into a mind that wasn't his. Thoughts that didn't belong to him rushed into his head. He could feel lust and frustration, longing for the tiny woman with the blonde hair. Her laugh ignited his fire, his desire to possess her. Every day he watched her, and every day she passed him by.

Cole dry heaved onto the asphalt. They were that murderer's thoughts, he knew it...

Even when he was done heaving, Cole wouldn't open his eyes. There would be ghosts, or walking corpses. If he saw it, he'd hear those dead people in his head, too. There would be no escape from that. Then a voice spoke.

"It's okay," said a girl's voice. "Just open your eyes and get out of here."

Cole sat there, sucking in huge breaths with his eyes pinched shut. Who the hell was still here? Was it the same person who had pleaded for his life only minutes ago?

"Get away from me," he growled. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," the girl assured him, sounding kind of sad. "Just keep moving forward, towards the grass. You'll be fine."

Cole stood up, the presence of another person fueling his desire to move. He thought he could hear someone moving nearby, that had to be the girl.

"I just killed fuck knows how many people," Cole hissed, stumbling forward awkwardly. "Just stay away!"

Cole tripped over another body. To his embarrassment, he felt himself shaking with fear.

"I saw," the girl commented blandly. "That man stabbed you. What happened wasn't your fault."

"Why won't you just go?!" Cole screamed straight ahead of him. His legs felt like rubber and he wobbled his way forward, trying to get away from this stubborn girl. He didn't know why she was persisting in trying to reassure him, but he wanted her to leave before he did something else he would regret.

"I know you didn't mean to," the girl said nearby.

"What would you know?" Cole snarled, clenching his fists. "You don't know me! You don't know what I'm capable of!"

Then there was silence. Nobody else spoke or moved. Cole felt that he had gone far enough to be well away from the bodies. He opened his eyes to find himself inches from a tree trunk. Looking left and right, he saw nothing. There was no girl anywhere in sight.

"Uh..." he said to himself, looking up into the tree to see if she was above him. Nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

In a few short weeks, the entire city had turned on him. It wasn't surprising, considering what happened in the park. People screamed at him on the streets, calling him names. Some people outright attacked him or threw rocks. But most were still too terrified of him to come near him. They insulted him from a distance. They were calling him a terrorist, the "Demon of Empire City."

Even Trish had turned on him. Once that idiot on the TV had revealed that Cole had been at the center of the explosion, everyone had blamed him for it. Everyone had believed that he was a killer, that he was guilty, even Trish. Trish's rejection of him hurt more that he could have imagined. He dealt with it the best way he knew how, keeping himself as busy as possible. But the anger and sadness crept back into his mind as soon as the action abated.

Cole had taken refuge on a rooftop. The wind whipped around the billboard he had hidden himself behind. It was blissfully peaceful on the roof, with nobody shouting obscenities at him at random. Cole tried to push his emotions away so he could sleep. A crumpled potato chip bag was crushed in his fist. He'd been very lucky to find that. He was just closing his eyes when the wind changed, pulling at him, tugging on his limbs.

"Why are you so sad, Cole?" a voice whispered in his ear.

Cole nearly jumped out of his skin. He jerked his head from side to side, but nobody was around, and his enhanced electrical abilities didn't sense anybody nearby. He'd had another voice in his head before. But this voice wasn't inside his head. It was as if someone was sitting next to him, talking to him. But there was nobody... who'd want to be his friend now anyway, now that he was a terrorist? He wrapped his arms around his chest, warming himself.

"Go away," Cole muttered. "I don't know if I'm dreaming or what, but I don't wanna talk right now."

"Tell me what's wrong," the voice said softly. Cole determined it was a female voice. He sighed to himself, figuring that he'd finally lost his marbles. And if he had lost his marbles, what did it matter if he answered the voice? The wind howled even louder and Cole started to shiver.

"My girlfriend hates me," he mumbled under his breath. "This whole city hates me." He put his head down on his arms. A few weeks ago he'd been sleeping next to Trish in a warm bed in their apartment. Now he was a freak of nature, huddled behind a billboard outside trying to keep warm, and talking to himself. Just great.

"I don't hate you," the voice told him sympathetically. The wind died down, and Cole stopped shivering.

"Yeah and that's wonderful and all, but I'm still an outcast and alone," Cole said bitterly. "And I've finally gone crazy," he added.

"Crazy?" the voice asked.

"I'm talking to a disembodied voice," Cole clarified exasperatedly.

"Oh, right, sorry," the voice said quietly in his ear. The man brought his hand up to the side of his head. It was as if someone had literally whispered right in his ear...

"Am I crazy?" he whispered, mostly to himself. He didn't feel like he was talking to himself... there was definitely sound hitting his eardrums.

"I dunno, are you?" the voice said with a sarcastic edge. "Maybe you are! Or maybe this is all a dream!"

Cole pushed back his sleeve and pinched his arm. This was no dream. If it were, there would probably be more dead people.

"This isn't a dream," he declared, looking up to watch clouds floating across the moon. "So I must be insane. Where's the nearest pharmacy?"

"Oh you're fine, you don't need drugs," the voice said.

"So you're saying you're real? And I just can't see you for whatever reason?"

"I guess so."

"Then where are you?"

"Over here," the voice said, the words drifting by, possibly from any direction, it was impossible to tell.

"That doesn't help," Cole muttered peevishly.

"Sorry."

"I need to sleep," Cole said, trying to get back to reality. "So, goodnight stress-induced delusion or whatever you are..."

"I'm your friend," the voice said faintly.

"Friend, right," Cole muttered under his breath.

"Right," the voice agreed pleasantly.

The voice went silent. Though it had gone, Cole still didn't want to sleep. What if tonight was the night the voices of the dying crept back into his head? It seemed likely, considering he had just started hearing voices while awake too. Although Cole did he best to fight off sleep, sleep eventually caught up with him...

In his dream, Cole is riding his bike down Broad Street. It was just another normal day of work delivering packages as a bike courier. He sees his destination: a massive office building twenty stories high in the middle of the historic section of town. The building seems even larger in his dream, cleaner and shinier as if it were newly built. The sun is hitting the glass windows at just the right angle so that the light is glaring. He is so distracted by this that he clips a young woman attempting to cross the road. The woman shrieks and stumbles, landing roughly on the curb. Cole screeches to a halt.

"Shit, I am so sorry!" Cole shouts over the roar of traffic, dropping his bike and leaning over the woman. "You okay?"

The woman looks up at him from her sitting position on the curb. The first thing Cole notices is that she has the biggest, bluest eyes he has ever seen. Aside from that, she has long, blonde hair and a slender figure, dressed in a woman's business suit, complete with jacket, pencil skirt, and high heels. She gives him a wry smile and holds out her hand.

"Help me up?" she says.

"Yeah," Cole responds, pulling the young woman gently to her feet.

"Thanks," she says, dusting off her skirt and picking up her small purse.

"I'm sorry I hit you, wasn't paying attention I guess," Cole says picking up his bike again. The woman laughed.

"You think?" she replies, rolling her eyes. Cole grinned, relieved she wasn't going to report him or anything.

"I'm Cole," he says, possessed by a weird desire to know this woman and holding out his hand to her. She smiled and placed her small hand in his.

"I'm..." she beings, but then she stops, looking up at the sky. Cole frowns and glances upward as well. The sky was turning black in the middle of the day. Fear mounting in his chest, Cole looks back down at the girl whose hand he is still holding. His breath catches in his throat. The girl is dead. There is a huge hole ripped in her stomach. Intestines and stringy blood vessels and nerves were hanging out of her belly in a tangled mess.

The girl blinks her blue, dead eyes at him.

"I'm dead," she says dispassionately, and Cole feels her hand slipping away from his.

"But who are you?" Cole gasps as the darkness descends on them. He keeps trying to cling to her hand but she continues to slip away. Fires spring up in the street. Screams echo all around. The girl blinks at him again and she begins to fade.

"You're dead, too," she responds, pointing at his abdomen. He looks down at himself. His body has been torn to shreds and blood is streaming down his arms and legs in a waterfall of crimson gore. The woman disappears and Cole is alone and dead. He turns in a circle, looking for her, but sees only desolation and destruction everywhere he looks. The dead begin to surround him...

Cole woke up in a cold sweat, nearly falling off of his perch behind the billboard. The dream was already slipping away. He tried to hang onto it, it seemed like something important, something he should remember. As he got up and stretched, hoping to shake off his lingering fear, the last thing he thought was that he wished he'd found out that girl's name. He could barely recall what she had looked like, just the eyes. He felt certain those large blue eyes were going to haunt him until this was over.

The woman he'd just dreamed about was the girl he saw die right after the explosion. He was sure of it. But how he was going to find out who she was still evaded him. Cole wasn't even sure why he cared so much. She was dead, wasn't she? What would he even do if he found out who she had been? Still, it bothered him more than he thought it would. He had seen and heard dozens of people die that day... why was she so special?

/

Cole was on the verge of abandoning all reason and giving in to sheer panic.

A gang had attacked him. The gang that people were calling the reapers. Men dressed in red coats with the hoods drawn up. Some of them had puked black goo as they surrounded him. Cole really didn't get what was up with that. Were they all on some new drug? Maybe they all had food poisoning. Then he saw them all pull machine guns from under their coats and his pulse shot through the roof.

Pure survival instinct kept him alive. He dove sideways behind a dumpster as a rain of bullets descended on him. Fear coursed through his veins, feeding his power. He glanced out from behind the dumpster and set bolts of lightning flying from his hands, sending two gang members to the ground, convulsing.

A hand grabbed him from behind. Cole thrashed frantically, trying to shake off the unwanted grip. His stomach clenched with fear again, and electricity coursed through his skin. The hand unexpectedly let go and Cole yanked his arm free. He turned and there was a body slumped against the brick wall. Smoke was rising from the body's hand. Cole clamped his hands over his abdomen, emptying his stomach of what little food was in it when he saw that the skin on the victim's arm was charred and black and oozing.

Cole didn't know what he'd done to deserve this kind of punishment. He didn't want to be a freak of nature who reduced human bodies to a blackened pile of smoking flesh. He didn't want to be a killer. How many lives had he ended now? He'd lost count.

Still retching, Cole stood up. The rest of the gang had fled. But in their place was a tall man in a long white coat.

"Weak stomach, Cole?" the white coated man asked.

"What?" Cole choked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Your powers... do they frighten you?" the man said, his dark eyes fixed on Cole. "Does what you can do scare you?"

"No," Cole said boldly, trying to keep his knees from knocking together. "Those freaks got what was coming to them."

"Them?" the man said with a short bark like laugh. He spared a brief glance at the red coated bodies. "Never mind about them. They are the poisoned ones. Their bodies couldn't handle the side effects of your creation."

"Huh?" Cole said stupidly.

"They will die," the older man said slowly, as if Cole were deaf. "They are already dying. I imagine they'd quite love to get their hands on you, though."

"Who the hell are you anyway?" Cole asked roughly, his mind catching up with the present. The man's hollow eyes bored into him. As Cole watched, his left hand twitched, revealing a limb that was entirely encased in metal.

"You mean you haven't guessed? I am your creator, of course," the man said with a little bow. "Lord Kessler, at your service. I am here to check on your progress."

"My progress?" Cole said, fury building inside him. "You did this to me? You made me into this?" he said, electricity tracing its way through his fingers.

"Indeed," the man said, his white coat whipping around in the wind. Cole wanted to scream, so many questions were twisting around in his head.

"Why!?" he spat, his hands balled into fists. He could feel his control over his powers slipping as he got angrier, and sharp, bright blue bolts escaped from his hands, grounding themselves in the pavement. The man's forehead wrinkled as he watched.

"Interesting," the white coated man said, his eyes fixed on Cole's fists.

Cole didn't want to know what was interesting, he just wanted answers. Fury overtaking reason, he charged forward, intending to scare this white coated man into telling him everything he wanted to know.

Faster than the eye could follow, the older man had his metal hand around Cole's throat. Cole's eyes widened in surprise as he struggled to breath. His strength was unreal.

"Care to see your future?" the man asked, raising his flesh and blood hand to touch his index finger to Cole's forehead. As soon his finger made contact, Cole's world went blank, only to be filled with images. Horrifying images. He saw death and destruction on a far greater scale that what had happened in the historic section of town. Cole wished he could close his eyes, but this was all in his mind. The entirety of Empire City had been annihilated, and its population completely wiped out. A single blood-soaked figure stood atop a pile of corpses, and Cole knew that he would be the architect of this destruction. All this death would be his fault.

With a jolt to his senses, Cole found himself lying flat on his back on the asphalt. He flipped over and began crawling away from Kessler, who was watching him as if he were a bug he'd like to step on.

"You saw," Kessler said. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. "That is your future. Why do you fight it?"

"You don't know me," Cole choked out of his bruised throat.

"I know that is what you were made to do," Kessler said, a note of sick curiosity in his voice now, like he was wondering if Cole would make a squishing sound or a crunching sound if he stepped on him. "You are a weapon. You are the embodiment of power."

"I can change the future. I won't be that," Cole rasped, attempting to summon his powers.

"Hmm," Kessler said thoughtfully, not looking at all worried about Cole's power. "Maybe you just need time to think."

The madman waved his metal hand, and Cole's mind went blank once again.

When Cole's mind settled back into his body, the first thing he felt was a cool breeze on his cheek. His eyes opened slowly, but it felt like they were full of gunk. Still on his back, he flopped his arm limply onto his face and rubbed away the goop. When he could finally see again, he had to blink his eyes a few more times to be sure of what he was seeing.

He had to be dreaming. Or maybe he was dead, finally.

There was what looked like a transparent angel hovering over him, her face a mere foot from his face. He could see her long, elegant feathery wings stretched out behind her. The angel's hair floated around her face as she stared into his eyes. She was unbelievably beautiful.

When she saw that he was awake, her face broke into a glorious, bright smile. She blinked her wide eyes at him, and said...

"What's up?"

The illusion was broken. Cole blinked and the angel was gone. His mind still in shock, he sat up, wondering if this was his future. To be alone, plagued with crazy visions and scary dreams, neither of which made any sense. Oh, and uncontrollable electricity based super powers that scare the shit out of people. What an awesome future this was going to be.

He suddenly had no problem with the idea that he was supposed to change the future. Wherever this future was headed, he wanted no part of it. He had to do something about it. What on earth that was going to be, he had no idea.

_Well I'm off to a great start._


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: my ADHD is really showing in this story, huh?

/

Cole decided his life had reached a new all-time low. Never once in his twenty four years had he imagined that he would be homeless and huddled around a flaming garbage can for warmth with a group of hobos. And yet that's what he found himself doing. Dignity had to take a backseat to survival these days.

The worst part was the smell. The heat was only making it worse. Cole wondered if he smelled as bad as these guys did. He decided glumly that he probably did. These days the only time his clothes got washed was if it rained.

Unfortunately, sleeping on the tops of buildings was fast becoming not an option as the nights got colder. Even more unfortunately, he couldn't think of a better option to keep warm at night. Turning on the spot to warm his back, Cole thought longingly of his apartment. Well, Trish's apartment now since she'd forbidden him from ever coming back. Cole ran his hand ruefully over his unshaven cheek. The apartment was warm. It had a shower! And a washer and dryer to clean his filthy clothes. He was suddenly and ruthlessly wrenched from his day dreams of pillows and sheets when one of the hobos addressed him.

"Hey there buddy," a toothless old man grinned at him. "You got any food on you?" A cruel wind blew at that exact moment, assaulting Cole's nostrils with the old man's stench. Cole had to work very hard to keep from gagging.

"Do I look like I have any food?" Cole said after clearing his nose, feeling irritated. He was as hungry as any of them. He folded his arms and stared into the depths of the fire.

"I ain't seen you around before," another one of the homeless guys said, eyeing him from under his enormous bushy eyebrows.

"Girlfriend threw me out," Cole said shortly, letting the bitterness show. The group laughed wheezily, some coughing and hacking, drawing their coats around them. At least these guys hadn't figured out who he was yet.

"My sympathies, friend," said the bushy eyebrow guy, patting him on the back. Cole resisted the urge to vomit.

"You heard of that Cole MacGrath fella?" said another guy seated across from Cole. Cole shook his head. He was expecting for the hobo to say something angry about him, some bullshit about how he deserved to have his head on a platter.

"I heard the reapers are trying to get him," the guy continued. Cole blinked.

"Why?" he asked. The hobo snorted.

"Hell if I know," the guy said, spitting on the ground. "Just heard one of 'em saying that he escaped. They want him bad. Been raiding buildings looking for him." Cole's stomach clenched painfully. So it wasn't just a coincidence that those freaks had him cornered in that alley. They were looking for him. His only consolation was that he hadn't left any of them alive. Except for that man with the hollow eyes and the white coat... Kessler.

Cole sighed. Instead of huddling around a flaming garbage can, he really should be thinking of a plan to get to the bottom of this mess. But... all this was bigger than him. The sick people, the Reapers, Kessler... where was he even supposed to start? At the rate he was going, he would barely be able to keep himself alive for longer than a few more weeks.

/

Cole was feeling apprehensive. He badly needed a change of clothes. But all his clothes were in Trish's apartment. He, however, still had a key. If he was lucky, maybe he could sneak in, take a few of his things, and then leave without her ever knowing he was there.

Cole approached the apartment with all the dread of a man going to face a couple of man eating tigers. He unlocked the door while holding his breath. He exhaled with relief once he saw that Trish wasn't home.

He used the bathroom first, taking the world's fastest shower and dressing at light speed. Then he snatched up his toothbrush and mouthwash. His mouth was starting to taste like a dirty sock and he was sick of it. He gave himself a hasty shave and managed to cut himself several times, making the sink look like a murder scene. The nicks on his face healed in record time.

_You're a freak, Cole MacGrath._

He ran to the bedroom and ripped open the drawers, pulling out a few shirts, underwear, socks, and pants. He stuffed them into his backpack and stood up to leave. That's when he heard the bedroom door slam. He turned around with some trepidation to see Trish standing in the door, blocking his exit.

"What are you doing here, Cole?" Trish asked, anger burning in her light brown eyes. "I thought I made it clear I didn't want to see you."

"I just needed some clothes. I haven't exactly been able to do laundry since you threw me out," Cole said bitterly, deciding not to mention the mess he'd left in the bathroom.

"You killed my sister," Trish said in a dangerously soft voice.

"I didn't kill Amy!" Cole shouted exasperatedly, flinging his hand in the air in frustration. "I don't know how that explosion happened, or why I survived, but I would never do something like that!"

"You expect me to believe that?" Trish said, her hands balling themselves into fists.

"Yes, because it's the truth!" Cole said loudly. "Trish, you have no idea what it was like, okay? You think I wanted to hear all those people die in my head? I still dream about it sometimes..."

_Dreams and hallucinations and voices and visions..._

Trish didn't look moved by his plea. Instead she just continued to glare at him.

"I don't know why you're even bothering to try and defend yourself," she said coldly.

"I shouldn't have to defend myself from you," Cole hissed, leaning forward slightly, clutching his bag in one hand. "You're my girlfriend, you should trust me. Or did you never really trust me at all?"

"I'm not your girlfriend anymore," Trish said, completely stone faced. Cole withdrew, as if her words had physically hurt him. She folded her arms across her chest. "Just leave, Cole. I can't trust a murderer."

Incensed, Cole plunged his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from a catalog. He unfolded it and waved it in front of Trish's face.

"You really think that a guy who was saving up to buy you this would have gone and killed your sister? Why can't you trust me?" Cole spat angrily.

"I don't know what to think anymore, Cole," Trish said stubbornly, though she had looked slightly surprised when she saw what was on the paper. "But I know you had a part in the explosion. And I know that I can't be with a man who helped bring about my sister's death."

Cole let out a frustrated growl. He threw the crumpled piece of paper at Trish's feet. Snatching up his backpack, he stormed past Trish out of the room. Once Cole had gone, Trish grabbed the catalog page and threw it in the trash. The page featured a beautiful three stone engagement ring.

/

The city was haunted. He was sure of it.

Sometimes he saw them out of the corner of his eye. Spirits, shades, and shadows of people. They disappeared as soon as he tried to get a closer look. None of them spoke to him though. Except for the voice of that girl...

This whole changing the future thing wasn't working out exactly as he'd hoped. So far all he'd accomplished was littering the streets with more bodies for the emergency personnel to collect... and completely numbing his sense of horror. He'd lost count of how many people he'd killed. Cole was starting to wonder if every Reaper he killed was another ghost haunting him.

Cole had been trying to investigate the Reapers. But every time he got close to one of their hideouts, they'd swarm him and he'd be forced to defend himself. Even when he'd managed to get into one the buildings they were lurking in, he hadn't found anything useful. Just a big, smelly, disgusting mess. There had been absolutely no clues as to why these murderous freaks wanted him. Were they all just nuts? Had their minds been poisoned too, and now they had just chosen him to fixate on for whatever twisted reason? Cole couldn't figure it out.

He passed a shop window and rolled his eyes at his reflection. His beard was starting to grow back. The jagged scar down the right side of his face made him look like a thug that had gotten in a knife fight in prison. His eyes had a dead, hollow look to them. He guessed he understood why people were steering clear of him now.

He nearly jumped out of his skin at a ringing sound coming from his pocket. It was his cellphone, he'd almost forgotten he even still had it. The damn thing wouldn't die as long as it was near him, apparently the electricity from his body kept it charged. But who the hell was calling him now?

It was Trish. Fuck. He debated for a minute whether or not to answer it, but eventually he did.

"Hello?"

"Cole, it's Trish."

"I have caller ID, you know," Cole said.

"I need a favor," Trish said, her voice tight.

"A favor?" Cole repeated incredulously. "You're seriously calling me asking for a favor? I've been homeless for weeks because of you and now you want a favor?"

"Yes, you owe us, all of us, for what you did, Cole," Trish responded.

"For what I did?" the man said, his voice rising angrily. "I think I've paid enough for whatever you all think I did, thanks."

"So you won't help," Trish said, her voice hard.

"Fine, help with what?" Cole asked, still irritated.

"I need you to go guard some medical supplies that are being airlifted into the city so the Reapers can't get to them," she said.

"Are you serious? You want me to get shot to pieces for that?"

"As I recall, bullets don't seem to have much effect on you anymore," Trish countered rapidly.

"Yes they do!" Cole roared at the phone. "It fucking hurts getting shot, you know!"

"But they can't kill you," Trish shot back at him. "I'd ask somebody else, but you're the only person I know who might stand a chance, as much as it pains me to admit that," she added unkindly.

"Thanks, that makes me feel all better inside," Cole responded nastily.

"You're welcome," Trish said equally sarcastically.

"What if I say no? Maybe I've got new friends now," Cole hissed. Trish laughed coldly.

"New friends? Right," she said.

"Aw, see I told you we were friends!" came a voice from behind him. Cole spun around so quickly he dropped his phone. It skidded across the asphalt.

"What?!" he projected loudly. He thought maybe a spirit had sneaked up on him, but no...It was that voice again.

"What?" the voice said.

"Go away!" Cole said, frantically scooping up his phone. He could hear Trish complaining loudly on the other end.

"No, I will not go away, Cole!" Trish shrieked. "We need your help and you're going to help, damn it!"

"Fine!" Cole shouted back, eyes darting all around looking for the source of that other voice.

"And tell that girl to get lost! You've got work to do!" she snapped before hanging up abruptly. Cole's heart skipped a beat as his phone went silent. His hand shaking, he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"Okay, okay," he said out loud. "Where are you? She heard you!"

"Right here," the girl's voice whispered.

"Argh!" Cole growled in frustration, bursting into the lobby of an abandoned building. Throwing his backpack on the ground, he ripped off his jacket and shirt, followed quickly by his shoes and pants. "Is there a microphone on me? Is that it?" He shook his clothes, half expecting to see something fall out of them. But all that happened was his phone fell out of his pants pocket. He was reaching for his boxers when the voice piped up.

"Stop, you're making me blush," the girl's voice said with a little giggle.

"What is going on?" Cole hissed. "Trish heard you, so... I'm not crazy?"

"I don't think so," the voice said, sounding a little worried.

Cole huffed and pulled his clothes back on, feeling slightly embarrassed about his little freak out.

"Maybe... maybe all this electricity messed with my brain, and that's why I've been seeing and hearing all this stuff..." he said, shouldering his backpack again.

"What have you been seeing and hearing? Er, other than me, I mean," the voice said interestedly. Electricity traced his its way up his limbs.

"Ghosts," Cole said after a minute. "Everyone who's died since that explosion."

"Really?"

"Yes," Cole said heavily.

The voice didn't respond. Cole sighed. Even his imaginary friend thought he was nuts. He headed out towards the docks. Maybe if he did this for her, Trish might let him come home. It was a long shot, but he needed a bit of hope.


	5. Chapter 5

The Reapers were swarming the docks. Cole had his hands full trying to keep them away from the large, flashing crate labeled "First Aid."

Cole's clothes were soaked in blood. He was starting to wonder why he'd agreed to this suicide mission. He'd been shot full of bullets just like he'd predicted. Crouching behind another, larger crate, he was blasting bolts of electricity from his hands. Two Reapers tumbled from the docks and landed in the muddy water.

When Trish and two of her friends finally arrived at the scene, he could see the horror and disgust in her eyes. The bodies of the reapers were everywhere, in the water, on the docks, laying eagle spread on the sidewalk. Only Cole was left standing, covered in gore. To avoid looking at her, he limped over to the nearest street light and drained the power from it. Slowly, uncomfortably, his wounds began to close. Bullets worked their way out of his flesh.

"What did you do?" Trish said without preamble, having wandered over to him, letting her friends retrieve the box of supplies.

"I did what you asked me to do," Cole responded in a pained voice. "I stopped the Reapers from getting your stuff."

"And so to stop them, you massacred them all?" Trish said harshly.

"They didn't exactly give me much of a choice!" Cole snarled, ripping the jacket off one of the bodies and using it to sop up some of the blood on his clothes. "I'm not a saint, okay? I wasn't about to let them kill me."

Trish was looking at him like she was seeing him clearly for the first time.

"I don't believe you," she said finally.

"Look, you knew what you were asking for," Cole spat. "You ask a killer for help, and this is what you get." He gestured around at all the dead bodies. There was a twinge in his stomach as he thought of all the ghosts he'd just unleashed onto the streets to haunt him, and his anger faded, replaced with unease. He stared fixedly at the tiny waves in the bay, his imagination in overdrive as he thought of demons rising from the waves from the bodies of those Reapers.

Trish was never going to let him come home...

Cole almost immediately decided he didn't want to be here another minute. He didn't want to listen to a rant about how he was a monster or a killer or a freak. He couldn't stand seeing Trish's accusing gaze on him anymore.

He turned his back on Trish and ran.

_I didn't want this, Trish! _

Cole pushed his powers away. He didn't want them. Even if it killed him, he swore he'd never use them again. Cole passed under darkened streetlights. A few minutes later, he began to feel weak.

_What the hell..._

He glanced around. There were no lights on anywhere in this part of town, actually... oh, damn...

No power, there was no power. And he had nothing left in him, he'd used it to heal his wounds... Cole felt his footsteps slowing down. His thoughts were getting fuzzy... where was he going again?

_I've got to get out of here..._

Cole kept running. But in his heart he knew there would be no escape. Not from his pain, not from his power, not from all the things that haunted him...

/

Cole could barely believe what he was seeing. How the fuck could this have happened?

When Cole's phone had started ringing a few days later and he'd seen it was Trish calling, he could hardly believe his eyes. He should have known it was too good to be true. That madman's voice had oozed out of his phone, giving Cole an ultimatum... Come to this address or Trish would die. Trish's terrified pleading in the background had sealed the deal.

Cole had climbed the side of the building so fast, he'd left a trail of bloody hand prints on every windowsill.

"Let her go, asshole!" Cole shouted, hauling himself up onto the roof and charging towards Trish. She was dangling helplessly off the edge of the building, suspended by a single length of rope.

"Ah, there you are..." Kessler said, tilting his head to one side as he regarded the younger man. "How good to see you again."

"Get her down from there!" Cole demanded, trying to get closer, but Kessler held out his metal hand threateningly. "I showed up, now let her go!"

"I am most disappointed with your progress, Cole," Kessler said, ignoring Cole's demands. "You had been doing so well... and now you suppress your power. You hide it within you!" He shook his head as if he were genuinely sad for Cole. "This is unacceptable."

"Please!" Cole screamed over the wind. "Just leave her alone!"

"Ah, you are referring to our guest?" the older man said, gesturing to Trish as if he'd only just noticed she was there. "Well Cole I got down to thinking that perhaps all you need to express your powers more avidly is a little... incentive."

"Look, do what you want to me, just leave her alone!" Cole cried, his hands sparking randomly, completely out of his control. He tried to shake it off.

"You see?" Kessler pronounced triumphantly. "You hide it! You fear your own strength! I made you what you are, and this is how you thank me?"

"You didn't fucking ask me if I wanted this!" Cole roared at Kessler.

Kessler simply sighed. He glanced exasperatedly at Trish like he was saying, _Goodness, he's being uncooperative, isn't he?_

"If that's how you feel..." he said, a cruel gleam in his eyes.

Cole just stared, frozen in terror. This couldn't be happening... this isn't happening...

"Care to say goodbye, Cole?" Kessler said, giving a mocking little wave in Trish's direction. His metal hand snapped the rope supporting Trish as if it were made of tissue paper.

Cole watched with terrified eyes as his girlfriend fell to her death.

"Trish!"

But it was too late. Trish had fallen out of sight. Completely ignoring the villain, he raced to the edge of the building and threw himself off after her. His hands scrabbled at the side of the building as he dropped from windowsill to windowsill as fast as he could go. As he neared the bottom, he slipped. He came down hard, legs buckling beneath him as he hit the ground. Cole groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, channeling power into legs, enough to numb the pain.

Trish was laying eagle spread on the ground, just a few feet away. Cole crawled over to her and gathered her up in his arms.

"Trish," he said urgently. She wasn't moving. He had to try to heal her. Focusing his power, he pushed it away from himself and let the healing energy flow into her. And it wasn't good enough. It was only enough to rouse her. Her eyelids fluttered.

"Cole..." she said, her voice weak. She grimaced in pain.

"You'll be okay," Cole choked. She was all he had. He couldn't lose her.

Trish blinked and then lay still in his arms. Her eyes stared at him. It took Cole a minute to realize that Trish was no longer looking out of them.

"No," he whispered to himself. How could that be the end, just like that? It seemed like there would be no closure for him. If Trish had had any last words, they were now lost. Cole's stomach felt like it was filling with lead. That was it. Just like that, his life was over.

Trish had died hating him.

"You're going to pay for, this Kessler!" Cole howled, clutching Trish's body to his chest. "You hear me! You're dead!"

_A little incentive..._

/

He buried her in the park, alongside other poor souls that had expired during the last few days. He dug the grave, counting every shovelful of dirt. He tried not to focus on what it felt like to place her body in the hole in the ground. His mind wasn't able to process any part of the grisly scene as he shoveled dirt on top of her. Her face disappeared from view. He shoveled faster, unwilling to give in to his despair just yet. Finally it was done. All that was left to remind him of Trish was a small photo he had tacked to the rough wooden cross he had made to mark the spot.

He knelt down by the grave, his strength finally giving out. Hot tears stung his eyes. He hadn't allowed it to sink in while he was burying her. But now it was hitting him full force. Trish was really gone. Her body was decaying in the ground beneath him. He plunged his hands into the dirt.

The life he had planned for them would never be. He had nobody now. He was alone. His hands clutched at the loose earth like it was his life line. His whole life was collapsing around him. Everything he knew was falling apart. He wanted to collapse here on the cold uncaring ground that had just swallowed up his dead girlfriend. Part of him knew she hadn't just left him, she'd been gone for a while now. She'd turned her back on him, and now she was gone beyond where he could reach her. The leaves rustled in the trees nearby.

"I'm sorry," a voice whispered so quietly by him he barely heard it. Cole shuddered and pushed his hands farther into the dirt, as if he could reach Trish even now.

"Stop," he growled, trying to sound stronger than he felt even as he sensed a few tears escaping from his eyes and getting lost in his beard. The full moon glowed bone white overhead. A few leaves broke free from their branches and were swept into his lap.

The girl's voice didn't say anything more. He was glad for that. The last thing he needed right now was to be hallucinating. He pulled himself together enough to remove his hands from the ground, dust them off on his filthy pants, and wipe the tears from his eyes. But he couldn't move from the spot. He stayed there, kneeling, staring at the picture of Trish and crushing the leaves in his lap inside his fist.

That was when he felt it. A presence. If he closed his eyes, he could feel it. Hands touching his face. He opened his eyes, as if that would reveal the presence, but he was still alone. The unseen hands slipped around his shoulders, and he felt a gentle pressure on his chest. If he concentrated, he could feel the embrace. And then just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Someone had just hugged him. Or he'd imagined the whole thing.

"Don't give up," the voice said softly.

/

Miles away on the other side of town was an alley, deserted except for a feral cat that was sniffing around a dumpster. A single dim street light illuminated the tight, dingy space. Quite suddenly a cold wind swept through the alley, blowing trash and dust every which way. A garbage can was knocked over and rolled away. The feral cat fled in alarm. When the wind died down and the dust cleared, a thin, pale woman was standing in the alley. The street lamp shed its yellowish light on her burnt, tattered, and bloody clothes, her ragged and charred hair, her torn bare feet. The girl stood there for a moment, blinking in the dim light.

She looked around the dingy alley like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. A strange, slightly insane smile spread across the girl's face. She took a few shuddering breaths, holding up her shaking hands as if inspecting them. Then the girl took a single clumsy, awkward step forward, as if she'd forgotten how to walk, then another step, and another step. The girl let out a tremulous laugh as she lurched off into the night.

/

Finally, the government was delivering food. People were starving, the food in the city was almost gone. Cole was feeling weak. He hadn't eaten more than water and a bag of raw noodles in three days. A crowd had gathered to await the delivery of the barge being floated towards the dock, but Cole wasn't among them. Showing his face in the middle of this crowd would not be smart.

Hanging high above them, Cole waited. The food barges hit the dock. Quick as lightning, Cole dove down on the highest crate and wrenched the lid off, flinging it into the bay. Digging his hands into the box, he retrieved three cans and shoved them in his pockets. Before anyone could do more than shout "Hey!", Cole had bolted down the nearest alley.

When Cole felt he had gotten far enough away, he climbed a building and collapsed against an air conditioning unit. He pulled out the cans of food he'd run off with. He heaved a sigh. Three cans of green beans. He hated green beans.

_Oh well... it's better than starving._

He popped the top on the first can and shoveled its contents into his mouth, swallowing everything without even bothering to chew. He did the same to the second can. The third he stuffed into his pocket to save for later. With food in his stomach, Cole slumped further down against the metal unit. He ran his hand over his cheek. It was rough and unshaven, as was his scalp. A breeze brushed his hand.

"How are you doing, Cole?"

Cole groaned. The voice was back. Fantastic.

"I don't wanna talk, hallucination," Cole muttered, banging his head against the air conditioning unit.

_Bang. Bang. Bang. Go away, voice, quit talking to me..._

"You said the same thing last time," the voice remarked.

"Yeah because I'm talking to myself!" Cole growled angrily.

"No, you're talking to me," the voice sighed in a gust of wind.

"Right, talking to you," Cole said, resisting the urge to start grinding his teeth. He tilted his head back and stared at the gloomy gray clouds that were floating listlessly by. "And who exactly are you? Are you an angel or something?" he added, his mind jumping back to another hallucination. Maybe this was the same one.

"An angel? Seriously? Um, no."

So much for that theory.

"So who are you, really?"

"Nobody important," the voice said hastily. Cole rolled his eyes.

"You must be a voice in my head, because that's exactly what I'd call myself," the man muttered petulantly.

"Oh stop beating around the bush," the voice complained. "Are you going to tell me how you're doing or not?"

"Okay, fine, you wanna know how I am?" Cole snapped.

"Yes."

"I'm hungry, I have no place to go, and my girlfriend is dead!" Cole howled into the wind. His body shuddered. "I'm basically screwed."

The voice was silent. Cole thought it had left when it spoke up again.

"I could help you," the voice said eventually.

"I'm pretty sure I'm just talking to myself right now, so how does that help me?" Cole asked doubtfully.

"Just listen," the voice said anxiously. "Go to the historic section of town, on Knights Bridge Road. There's somebody who could help you there."

"And who would that be, exactly?" Cole said sarcastically. There was another long pause from the voice.

"Somebody you can trust," the voice whispered, quietly as leaves rustling in the breeze.

"I can't trust anyone," Cole grumbled obstinately. "This whole city wants me dead."

"You can trust this person, Cole," the voice said firmly. "Just go to the historic section, Knights Bridge Road... they'll find you."

"They'll find me?" Cole questioned uncertainly. But the voice it seemed had gone again.

Cole pulled his knees up into his chest and let his head rest on them. He was crazy. He knew he'd absolutely lost his mind. In all this time in quarantine, he hadn't been able to change a thing. All he'd done was kill people. He had no plan and nobody to help him.

Except the voice. The voice had offered to help him...

But this was completely insane. He was actually considering listening to what this hallucination had to say. But really, what other options did he have? Well, he reasoned with himself, he could go to Knights Bridge Road and see if he found anybody. And if he didn't, no harm done, right? Then that would be proof the voice wasn't real. Nobody else had heard the voice since that one time Trish had heard it... there was still a chance he was nuts. Time to get to the bottom of this. Cole stood up and began his descent.


	6. Chapter 6

Darkness fell on Empire City as Cole ran for his life. His only thought was of escape, of running. So he ran, feet pounding down the deserted streets, sloshing through puddles, sending little ripples of electricity across the water's surface. There was nothing left in him, no emotions to feel, no energy to produce even a single bolt of lightning. Rain poured from the sky drenching Cole to the bone, trickling down the back of his shirt.

He didn't know what he'd been thinking, assuming he could challenge so many Reapers... how stupid was he? As soon as he'd entered the historic section of town, they were everywhere. He thought he could hold them off, but there was just too many this time. He was going to die, he was so dead. It seemed like there would be no future for him after all...

_Knights Bridge Road... where is it?_

He knew most of the streets in town thanks to his job, but right now his sense of direction was sadly failing him. He wasn't sure why he was listening to what the unknown voice had told him. He wasn't sure if the voice wasn't just his brain messing with him. But he was willing to try anything at this point. He had no other choice.

Lightning flashed across the sky.

This was a suicide trip. Maybe that had been the voice's real plan all along, to lure him out here into an ambush. The Reapers would find him soon... they were hot on his trail. They would catch him, and then who knows what these lunatics would do to him? Drain him dry, use his powers for their own ends, or would they simply kill him like Kessler had done to Trish?

At the thought of Trish, the last ounce of fight left in him seemed to up and vanish. Trish was gone so what would it matter if they killed him? His steps slowed and he turned down an alleyway that was so narrow it was almost invisible in the dark. Blackness pressed in on him, he couldn't see a thing.

_Trish is dead... I wish I were dead..._

The man fell to his knees as fatigue took him, and he keeled over into a shallow, oily pool of rainwater. Cole didn't even try to get up, he just lay there and waited, completely spent. The sounds of many pounding feet reached his ears from his prone position. The reapers were close, they'd find him here any second now.

_I can't do this anymore... just let them take me._

Ghosts drifted at the edges of his sight as he closed his eyes. The dead were here, they were coming to drag him straight to hell. And then hands, softer than he had been expecting, reached out from behind him and grasped his arm and began pulling him up... and up... a door slammed. Cole's eyes rolled up into his head as he blacked out.

/

Cole couldn't wake up. He was suspended in a dream world. Sometimes he could feel someone beside him. His eyes fought to keep themselves open. The light was too dim to see by but he could definitely sense there was somebody there with him. Were there ghosts here now too? He wasn't sure, but somewhere in his muddled thoughts, he felt safe. A hand brushed his forehead lightly, then felt the pulse in his wrist.

He heard the voice singing softly in the background of his thoughts. The voice had never sung to him before. It was a blessed relief from listening to the voices of the dead while he slept. Apparently the voice hadn't been trying to kill him, because the girl's voice was here now, comforting him... He heard the invisible girl whispering sweetly to him.

_I'm so glad you're here now. I knew you'd come. _


	7. Chapter 7

Cole was half surprised that he ever woke up at all.

Part of him didn't even want to open his eyes, didn't want to see where he'd been taken. But curiosity got the better of him and he opened his eyes slightly. He didn't see much, just a white wall in the dim light. With a sigh, he realized he was going to have to sit up. He noted that he didn't seem to be tied up, maybe he was in a cell. With a grunt he rolled over onto his back, finally opening his eyes all the way.

He was not in a cell, he was in a room. Someone's bedroom by the look of it. There was a dresser and a nightstand, the clock read 2 am. He had been placed in the queen size bed. Cole had never been so happy to find himself in bed. The pillow case and comforter were the softest things he'd felt in ages. A glass of water and crackers had been left out. The closet was open and an assortment of woman's clothing was visible inside. This reminded him painfully of Trish, and of nights spent in her bed...

Someone had saved him and brought him here. That was the only explanation. The Reapers would certainly not be so kind as to place him in a nicely furnished bedroom with water and food. He considered this. Who would want to help him? Didn't everyone think he was a terrorist now?

The voice, he'd definitely heard the voice while he'd been passed out... but the voice couldn't have saved him. That didn't make any sense. It was just a voice... but still, his stomach squirmed at the vague memory of the voice singing sweetly to him...

Cole sat up, and immediately his head started spinning. If he didn't get some electricity in his blood soon, he was going to pass out again. Cole slipped out of the bed and wobbled over to the nearest electrical outlet. Crouching next to it, he willed the power to come out of the wall and into him. Jolts of electricity arched out of the socket and into his fingers tips. It was like the breath of life. Energy and strength poured back into his tired limbs.

Recharged, he stood up and considered his options. Should he try and figure out who rescued him, or just sneak out?

_Maybe I should just leave, not bring trouble down on some innocent person..._

However before he could act on this thought_, _the door swung open and light streamed into the room. Cole jumped as his racing thoughts were interrupted. He turned to face the light... And in the doorway stood a girl.

His first impression of her was that she looked like a teenager who had escaped from detention. Her silver blonde hair was cut short and spiked all over her head. She had a pale face and even paler blue eyes. Stick-like legs encased in skinny jeans stuck out from underneath an over sized hoodie that hung almost to her knees. She was cute in a punk rock kind of way, but she didn't look like she was capable of rescuing anybody. That was his first impression, anyway.

"You're awake," she said, sounding a little bit breathless.

Those pale blue eyes blinked at him, as if they didn't quite believe what they saw. For one long moment, the two people simply observed each other. Cole had the strangest feeling that she was waiting for him to say something... there was a slightly hopeful look on her face. _Do I know you? _The girl tilted her head to one side as the hopeful look disappeared from her face, to be replaced with something more neutral.

"Are you alright?" she added when it became apparent that Cole wasn't going to say anything.

"Yeah," Cole said uncertainly. Was this the person who saved him? "I'm okay."

"You've been asleep since yesterday," the girl said slowly. "I found you in the alley..."

"You brought me here?" Cole interrupted, looking the skinny girl up and down. This small girl had rescued him? Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Yes," she answered, her eyes looking him over in response to the stare he'd just given her. Her gaze was almost appraising, as if she were sizing him up. "You're Cole MacGrath, aren't you?"

"Maybe," Cole said evasively. The girl laughed suddenly.

"Might as well admit it," she snickered. "The puddle you were lying in was glowing, you were sending off sparks." Cole cursed under his breath. Guess there was no point denying it...

"Okay, fine, you got me," he said, irritated. "Who are you?" he shot at her. "Why'd you bring me up here? I'm a terrorist, or didn't you hear?" he spat, voice dripping with sarcasm. This didn't get the reaction he'd been expecting.

The girl simply stuffed her hands inside her hoodie and looked up at the ceiling.

"A terrorist? Is that so?" she said finally. Cole got the impression that she was avoiding saying all that was on her mind. The look on her face was way too contemplative. He waited for her to say more, but all she did was lean up against the door frame. Cole fidgeted uncomfortably.

"So what is it?" he asked again. She turned her head to stare at him. "Your name?" he prompted.

"Shane Hunter," she said after a minute. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Nice to meet you, Cole MacGrath," she added, motioning for him to follow her out of the room. "Come on."

Cole trailed after her slowly, after briefly considering bolting for the window. Perhaps it would help to have company, if only for a little while. He hadn't spoken to anyone since Trish had died in his arms, except for the voice of course. He shook his head to dismiss those memories. Instead he let his eyes wander around the apartment he found himself in. It was sparsely furnished, but still cozy and bright. After weeks of living on rooftops, being in a nice apartment felt like being on Mars.

"You didn't have to help me," he blurted out as he followed her into the kitchen. Shane raised her eyebrows.

"I guess not," she said easily. "But I did."

Cole could think of no good response to this, so he said nothing. Shane went to the pantry and rummaged around in it. The man cautiously approached the island. As he did so, he noticed the reason the apartment seemed so bare was because half the furniture in the room was blocking the front door. The skinny girl turned around and slapped a bottle down on the counter in from of him.

"Here, you need this," she said simply.

Cole looked at the bottle. It was a protein shake.

"How did you get this?" Cole asked in wonder. He'd been scavenging food for two weeks now, with success being all too rare. Shane's blue eyes left his face and found the floor.

"Most of my neighbors, the people who lived in this building... they're gone," Shane whispered to the tile. "At least... they haven't come back. I took their food. It's lasted me a while... I don't eat much."

That certainly seemed to be the case, Cole thought as his gaze passed over her thin form again. She was already tiny, and that ridiculously large hoodie she was wearing was just making her look even smaller. He knew he'd lost weight as well, but his muscles were just as large as ever thanks to years of urban exploration and his job as a bike courier. Standing next to her with his tall frame and large muscle mass, he felt like he loomed over her. He took a step back.

"And this building hasn't been raided?" Cole asked incredulously. His fingers subconsciously closed around the bottle. Shane sighed, and Cole saw her shifting her weight from foot to foot like she wanted to bolt. Which was funny, since that was what he had been considering doing just minutes ago.

"It has, but I barricaded myself in here when I heard them coming," she muttered, stuffing her hands back inside her hoodie. Why did he get the feeling she was lying? She glanced at him. "You gonna drink that?"

Cole needed no other encouragement. He wrenched the lid off the bottle and downed the whole thing in five gulps. His stomach gurgled embarrassingly as food hit it for the first time in two days.

"You must've been hungry," Shane commented dryly.

"Yeah," Cole grunted in response. He tossed the empty bottle in the trash.

Shane sighed and flung open the pantry door.

"Eat whatever you want," she said serenely, flouncing over to the couch and plopping herself down on it. Cole's stomach growled loudly again at the thought of food. Food! Real food! As much as he wanted to run straight to the pantry and eat as much as his stomach could hold, he didn't. He wandered over to where Shane was sitting.

"Why'd you bring me up here?" he asked again. "You didn't answer me before."

He saw her eyebrows contract as she considered his question. It was a minute before she answered. Was it really that difficult of a question that she had to think about it for that long?

"You needed help. I couldn't just leave you lying out there," she said eventually.

"But that guy on the TV said..." Cole began, but Shane cut him off.

"Maybe that guy on TV did say you were a terrorist or whatever, but do you honestly believe everything you see on TV?"

Cole had to admit she had a point. It was a relief if he was being honest, to hear someone say that. To know that there was one person who hadn't automatically assumed he was guilty, that he was a killer, meant more to him than he was willing to admit. He felt a lightness in his body that had nothing to do with the thought of eating a real meal. Maybe he'd finally found a friend.

"Is it okay if I get something to eat?" he asked, with a smile tugging at his lips. She smiled back at him, a real smile, displaying her white even teeth.

"I said you could, didn't I?"

Cole picked a few things out of the closet and sat down at her island to eat when a thought struck him.

"Where am I by the way?" he asked, stuffing a handful of pretzels in his mouth.

"Knights Bridge Road," Shane answered without looking back.

Cole swallowed his inhuman mouthful of food.

_Knights Bridge Road. Just like the voice said..._

He stared at the back of Shane's head. A fierce internal struggle was going on inside him. He had been so convinced that the voice had just been in his head, but now it seemed that maybe he had been wrong...

_The voice said they would find me, on Knights Bridge Road... someone I could trust._

Shane had found him. Saved him. Cared for him and fed him. Whether or not the voice had been right or this was all a big coincidence, he felt like he owed her something.

"Thank you, by the way," he said, setting down the power bar he'd been gnawing on. Shane turned her wide eyes on him.

"For what?" she asked.

"For, you know, bringing me up here," he said, fiddling with the trash on the island. He briefly debated telling her that he'd heard a voice telling him to come here, but quickly decided against it. He already felt like he was crazy, he didn't need other people confirming he was crazy. Shane shrugged.

"Don't worry about it," she said easily. "It's kind of nice having somebody to talk to after all these days by myself." Cole nodded and finished chewing up the nutrition bar.

"So..." Cole began hesitantly. He hadn't done small talk in a while. "What do you do?"

"Do?" Shane said, raising an eyebrow as she turned on the couch to face him.

"What's your job?"

"Oh," Shane said, nodding. "I'm a medical technician."

Cole immediately felt inferior. He hadn't gone to college, though he'd regretting that once he'd met Trish. Trish had been a medical student. And now Shane was a medical technician. And... Cole had been a bike courier. He didn't exactly get great benefits or pay. He knew he wasn't as smart as Trish, and now he'd suspected Shane was probably far more intelligent as well.

"I'm a bike courier," Cole said after taking another bite of food. Shane's mouth twitched as she nodded but didn't say anything. She wasn't offering up much information about herself. Cole started to wonder if he was annoying her. "So... how did you know I was outside your apartment?"

Shane shrugged once again.

"I didn't," she said. "I was going out to collect rain water when I saw you lying there. You were kind of hard to miss."

"Rain water?" Cole asked. "Why would you need that?"

"In case the power goes out again," Shane said. Cole lowered his eyes. Shane must have heard all the things the lunatic on TV had been saying about him. She knew people had been calling him a terrorist. Was she going to blame him for the power going out? Maybe the best course of action would be to apologize in advance.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Hm?" Shane said. She had stood up and wandered over to the window and was looking down. He wondered what she was looking at. It was around 3 am, still too dark to see much of anything outside.

"Sorry the power went out," Cole muttered, suddenly not hungry anymore. Coming into Shane's house and seeing how she was living made him feel even worse about being involved in the explosion.

Shane turned from her stare out the window, her eyebrows raised.

"Right, because it's all your fault, not that massive explosion..." she said, touching her own cheek in what seemed like a nervous gesture.

Cole felt his pulse lowering. She wasn't going to blame him. But now something else was bothering him. The more time he spent with this girl, the more he felt like he knew her. As much as she was trying to be closed off, trying to shut him out, Cole just had this unshakable feeling that she knew him too, and not only from rumors on the street. Why else would she have taken in a stranger during this dangerous time? He wished with all his might that he could remember more from the day of the explosion... His hands sparked out of anxiety. Shane barely even looked over at that. She had gone back to staring adamantly out the window.

"What's wrong?" Cole asked, after a minute.

"They're out there," she whispered, turning fearful blue eyes on him. "Those sick people who kill anybody who gets in their way..."

Cole stood up. He was feeling better than he had in days. He had had restful sleep, food in his stomach, and electricity in his blood. Granted, he probably still smelled like a dumpster, but Shane had tactfully not brought that up.

"Want me to go get rid of them?" he growled, stalking over to the window. He looked down and saw what she was seeing, a group of red coated men with machine guns was congregated near a street light. Shane looked alarmed.

"Are you crazy? Do you see all those guns?" she said, gesturing out the window. "No, if you need to leave, then go out the back where I found you."

Cole didn't want to leave. This place was the only place he'd found peace in what felt like ages. But... he couldn't let those freaks hurt this girl. Would she ever let him come back to see her once he'd left? Cole glared at the group of Reapers, wishing they would just leave... But what were they even doing? His gut clenched uncomfortably as the answer hit him like a ton of bricks.

_They're looking for me. They must know I'm still in the area... I have to go before they find me. They'll hurt this girl to try and get to me._

"Could I use your bathroom? I'll leave out the back then. I really shouldn't stay," he said after a minute of observing the group out the window. They didn't seem inclined to move.

Shane nodded distractedly.

"In my bedroom," she said, waving vaguely in the direction of her room.

Cole wandered into the bathroom. He sighed exasperatedly when he saw his face in the mirror. His skin was lightly coated in grime. His beard was tangled and scruffy. His eyes were wild and yet dead looking. His clothes were ripped and bloody and filthy. He looked like a deranged psychopath. Why the hell had this girl let him into her apartment looking like this?

Shaking his head, he went to the bathroom and washed his face in the sink. Feeling slightly better but still wishing he had his clippers so he could trim his beard, he wandered back out into the living room.

Shane was still standing at the window when he came back. For a moment he felt like she was more transparent than any person should be... but then he blinked and she looked normal again.

"So, um... I really should go," Cole said. He glanced out the window. The reapers were still out there. They were determined to wait until he showed his face, apparently... Shane glanced at him distractedly, her blue eyes flicking from the window to him and then back to the window.

"If you don't mind my asking... what are you going to do?"

"Er... go home?" Cole said in an would be casual tone.

Shane raised her eyebrows.

"Why do I not believe you?" she said, her eyes locking onto his. Cole shifted uncomfortably. She really was pretty... now that he was closer to her, he could tell exactly what shade of blue her eyes were. They were a clear sky blue, like a summer's day on the beach.

"Okay, so I don't have anywhere to go per say..." Cole said, averting his eyes from her intense gaze. Shane nodded slowly, giving him a sad little smile.

"I'm sorry," she said simply. Cole clenched his fists. He could have gone back to Trish's apartment and lived there. But... he couldn't. He was certain Trish's ghost would haunt the halls of that place. With how many dead people he'd had in his head the last couple weeks, he didn't think he could chance living there without risking his sanity in the process.

"It's... it's okay," he said, staring at the floor now. It wasn't okay. It was pretty fucking awful as a matter of fact. Everything he'd said to the voice was true. He was alone, he had nowhere to go, and his girlfriend was dead. And he was slowly losing his grip on reality. Or was he?

_The voice said I'd find someone to help me... Am I supposed to stay here? But she's just a tiny girl, younger than me even... I can't endanger her. That's not right. _

"Are you sure you want to leave?" she said, regarding him with a piercing stare. Cole looked away from those sky blue eyes yet again. He felt like they could see too much this close to him.

_No, I'm not._

"Yeah, I can't stay," he said.

"Okay, this way."

Shane moved the furniture away from her door. She led him down a darkened stairwell to a door that was bolted shut with a heavy iron lock. The lights overhead flickered as he passed. Shane made no comment.

"This is it," she said softly.

She undid the lock and pushed the door open, revealing the tiny alley that she had found him in. The small girl turned back to face him and fixed him with her wide eyes.

"I hope you'll be alright," she said. For a moment Cole thought she might hug him, but then she seemed to think better of it.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly. "For everything."

"You're welcome." She nearly smiled as she took a step back. Cole stepped back out into the alley. He wanted to ask her if they'd known each other before all this and he'd just forgotten they'd met...but then the door closed and her pale face disappeared.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I hope this is good enough lol. My fiance liked it, but he might have just been saying that to make me feel better lol. Anyway, if you are enjoying this story, a few kind words would be nice.

/

Cole peered around the edge of the building, taking stock of the situation. It was still dark, the only light came from the street light illuminating the group of red coated freaks. Maybe he could sneak up on them, take them out before they noticed him... Not for the first time, he wished he could use a gun. But the last time he'd held onto one for more than a minute, it had exploded in his hand. He was lucky he still had all his fingers.

_I can't let you hurt her. In fact, I'll make sure you won't._

Cole sneaked up around the park bench, close enough to the street light. He reached out a hand. Power flowed from the light and into him, welling up inside him. The light flickered and went out, throwing the area into almost complete darkness.

Cole stood up, letting jagged bolts of power form around him. He hadn't wanted to use this power anymore... Trish had rejected him because of it... but Trish was dead. Cole couldn't allow his new friend to meet the same fate.

He let the power go. Blue lightning rushed forward, taking out most of the group with a single shot. Only a couple managed to even fire a few rounds. The man felt a bullet hit his leg. His muscles shook but he didn't back down.

Cole groaned even as the last body hit the ground. That one shot had hit his shin, tearing a hole in his pants and shearing off a good chunk of skin. Blood was soaking his left sock. Grasping his leg, he let what was left of his power pulse through his skin. Drawing power from the street lamp, he was able to heal it. That's when he heard the shouting.

"You're a fucking idiot!"

Startled, Cole looked up. A small figure was leaning out of the only lit window high above him. The moonlight glinted off her silver blonde hair, giving away who it was.

"Did you think I wasn't going to hear fucking gunshots outside my window?" Shane yelled down at him.

"Sorry! I'll try and be quieter next time!" Cole shouted back sarcastically, getting to his feet. He grabbed the nearest body and hauled it over to the others, stacking the corpses in a pile. The police would hopefully pick up the bodies when the sun was up. The guns he quickly tossed down the storm drain. He could sense Shane watching him.

"I still think you're crazy, but thank you!"

"No problem! I owed you one!" Cole shouted up at her. He hesitated, but he had to say it now. Shane was ducking her head back inside. "Can I come visit you!?"

"What?"

"Is it okay if I come see you sometime?" Cole repeated. Cole obviously couldn't see Shane's face, but he wished he could have.

"Okay!" he heard her respond after a few seconds. "See you around!"

Shane pulled her head back in the window and shut it. Cole breathed a sigh of relief.

Okay, he was starting to become a believer. The voice had told him to come here, that there was somebody who could help him here... and there she was. Shane had saved his life, and offered him a chance to see her again.

Cole felt a spark of hope in his chest, something he hadn't felt in so long he almost didn't recognize it. Maybe he wasn't doomed. Maybe he still had a chance to change his future into something better... Shane had lit a fire in his heart again. Just that one display of kindness was enough to bring him back from the brink.

Cole still felt like he owed her for that... He had to clear this area of Reapers. There were way too many of them here... if Shane ever went outside again, she could get killed by these freaks. Cole pulled more power from the street light, letting it bounce between his limbs until he felt like he'd taken in all he could handle.

Cole looked back up at Shane's window, where he could see a little bit of light from her living room.

_I'll figure out a way to end this. I'll change the future. Then... then I'll leave this hell hole behind me. Don't worry Shane, hopefully you won't have to live this way for long. _

Something rustled in the grass next to him. Were there more reapers here already? Cole turned his head slightly and caught something moving out the corner of his eye. He lit up his hands once again, aiming at the figure standing off to his side.

A pair of startled blue eyes stared at him from a pale face. Shane leaped backwards from him, a hand over her heart like she was having a heart attack.

"Shit!" Cole shouted, clenching his fists to try and disperse the energy. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "How the hell did you get down here so fast?!"

Shane looked like a deer in headlights, completely stunned. Her eyes darted from tree to tree, now looking anywhere but at his face.

"I was worried about you," Shane said breathlessly, gesturing to his blood soaked sneaker. "You okay?"

That doesn't exactly answer my question, Cole thought, but okay...

"I'm fine," Cole said, raising an eyebrow at her. He saw her quickly take in the pile of corpses.

"Oh, good!" Shane said a little too enthusiastically, now staring at his waistline. She slammed her hands into her hoodie, still with that deer in headlights look on her face. "Great! I'll see you later!"

And with that said, she brushed past him, practically sprinting across the street.

"What... Hey!" Cole said bemusedly. But Shane had already disappeared into the tiny alleyway.

What the hell was that about? Cole jogged across the street, peering in the the darkness of the alley, but there was no girl in sight... Now where did she go?

"I told you that you'd find help here," the voice whispered in his ear.

Cole jumped, flattening himself against the side of the building. Wind whipped around him, cutting straight through his clothes, chilling him to the bone.

"Fuck," he whispered to the air. "You're gonna fucking kill me if you keep scaring the shit out of me like that."

"The idea was actually to keep you from getting killed," the voice said, sounding amused. "And it worked, didn't it?"

Cole took a deep breath. He'd had just about all the scares he could handle for the night.

"I guess," he admitted once his pulse had lowered back down to normal. "Do you know her or something? Shane?"

"Sort of," the voice murmured in his ear. "She could help you, if you let her."

Cole snorted, slumping down against the side of an overturned dumpster. He looked up at the sky, watching as a plane flew across the moon.

"I've already got an imaginary friend for help," he reminded her sardonically. "And I won't get her killed. That'd be a dick move on my part."

"That's nice of you," the voice said sincerely. "You're a good guy."

Cole felt his ears reddening. Great, now he was getting embarrassed... Did his imaginary friend have a crush on him?

_You were there when I was passed out... I heard you. You said... you said... what did you say? I can't remember. But you sang to me, I remember that._

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Was he so lonely that he was making up a nice girl to talk to him? God, that was just sad...

"Look, I've got some Reapers to get rid of, so... we'll talk later," Cole said awkwardly, getting up off the ground and stalking back out into the night.

/

The morning news was not good. Channel four showed nothing but images of Empire City, torn apart... and bodies. Guilt boiled in Cole's stomach as he stared at the static filled screen... There was Archer's square, and all the death he'd caused...

_You're wrong, my poor, silly hallucination... I am not a good guy. Not at all. I've killed people, innocent people... You may be right that I didn't mean to, but still... I did it. _

Cole wrenched his eyes from the TV and wandered towards the park. He had done his best the last few days to rid the area of Reapers so Shane would be safe. Now he was wondering how long the government was planning on keeping the entire city quarantined like this...

He plopped down on a park bench and took a deep breath. He felt himself sliding sideways... maybe he'd just take a short nap. Sleep would be a good place to try and escape from his dark and depressing thoughts... eventually, he slept.

Cole's eyes snapped open, he wasn't sure how much later... Cole was strong, but not strong enough to break through the ropes constricting his neck, chest, arms, and legs.

He'd just been so tired... he'd fallen asleep that park bench, just for a quick nap. Big mistake. Now he was lashed to this bench and surrounded by Reapers.

"Let me go right now!" Cole roared, thrashing furiously. But he was too exhausted to do much else... he had so little power left... his hands sparked weakly.

A tall red coated Reaper approached Cole's face, black gunk dripping from his mouth. Just like those sick people on the street... The reaper pulled a knife from under his coat.

"You will cure us," he gurgled, a black bubble bursting at the corner of his mouth.

"I don't have any cure!" Cole said, his heart about to beat out of his chest. The Reaper raised his knife. Holy shit, he was about to be slaughtered here like a sheep on an altar!

He turned away as the knife fell, slashing through his jacket sleeve and T-shirt, cutting him deeply in the arm. Blood spurted from the wound, dripping onto the pavement.

Cole saw a cup flash in front of his eyes. Even as he tried to heal his wound, he saw the cup go under his arm to catch his blood. The Reaper raised the cup to his mouth.

_Fuck, they're drinking my blood! They think my blood is going to cure them. That's what Kessler meant, they'd love to get their hands on me..._

"More," another Reaper hissed from under its hood.

Cole's breath caught in his throat as the knife was raised again, stabbing him deeply in the forearm. Great, they were going to stab him full of holes, bleed him dry until he was nothing but a withered husk. More of his blood was caught in the cup.

Of all the ways to die, this wasn't how he thought he would go...

Cole stared at the trees hanging over him. He tried to draw on what power he had left... the cut in his arm healed, but it was quickly reopened by that bloody blade. What could he do? He couldn't keep healing himself, and he didn't want to die like this...

Wait... was the voice here? Could his imaginary friend help him? Maybe... maybe he just had to believe that his invisible friend was real, and she'd help him...

Cold metal widened the hole in his arm, speeding up the flow of his blood. Cole groaned, but then he swallowed his pride. He had to ask now...

"Help," Cole whispered. "Whoever you are... help me."

The knife pierced his leg, tearing a hole in his pants. Cole winced. The cup was passed around, Reapers drinking eagerly from it. His heart would stop beating soon...

"Please, if you're real, help me!" Cole begged.

Nothing, no answer... there was only silence, except for the sounds of his blood being guzzled like soda.

And then the wind picked up. That gory cup was knocked out of the Reaper's bloody hands. The red coated freaks made sounds of outrage as their "cure" rolled away.

The trees shook angrily. Branches cracked and snapped overhead. A massive tree limb fell, crashing into the group of freaks, causing them to scatter. Cole blinked. This was actually happening...

Cole had heard the expression "howling wind," but this wind was actually screaming. He could hear his imaginary friend shrieking in anger as the wind rushed over him, snatching at his clothes.

The Reapers had drawn their weapons. They might be bat shit crazy, but they knew something was happening. Another tree limb plummeted from a nearby tree, clipping a massive Reaper, knocking the figure to the ground. Cole's attackers were moving farther away now, following the sound of the howling wind.

"You're real," Cole whispered to himself. "Holy fuck, you're actually real..."

That was when a tiny blonde figure ran up to him.

"Shane," Cole croaked.

"Shh!" Shane hissed frantically, her fingers swiftly undoing the ropes that held him in place. The ropes fell from his body, and Shane, with more strength than he would have guessed she had, helped him to stand. She then helped him limp over to the nearest street light so Cole could drain it and heal his wounds.

"Better?" Shane breathed, so quietly he could barely hear her.

"Yeah," Cole growled, testing his leg. It seemed to be healed, though he was still feeling light headed, probably from blood loss.

"Then come on!" Shane whispered, pulling on his hand. "Let's go while they're distracted!"

"No," Cole snarled, yanking his hand back. Lightning crawled up his arms. "Those blood drinking freaks are dead!"

He turned back to where the Reapers were still looking for whoever was screaming, even though the noise had since stopped. Now it was just the wind, no angry voices could be heard.

"Fine!" he heard Shane hiss at his back. "Get yourself killed. Idiot!"

Cole growled, attempting to control his emotions. Shane was right, he was still weak... the smart thing would be to run now, fight them later. The voice didn't need protecting anyway, it had no body to protect. He could run and not feel guilty. Cole turned to accompany Shane out of the park, but behind him was nothing but leaves.

_What is with you, girl? You're becoming as scarce as my imaginary friend..._


	9. Chapter 9

Living outside sucked. The rooftops hardly offered Cole any comfort, and now something was wrong with him. His head felt fuzzy and his thoughts were muddled. He barely had enough energy to climb down from the building he had been roosting on that morning.

He'd hidden from the Reapers to try and recover from nearly being murdered. But the rooftops were deathly cold... He'd spent the entire night huddled, shivering and coughing, under a tarp on top of an apartment complex. The fact that his clothes were now full of holes didn't help him to stay warm.

He felt himself shaking as he attempted to traverse the sidewalk. Whether it was from fear or whatever was wrong with him, he wasn't sure. The dead felt closer now. The shades that wandered the city along with him became clearer. He could get closer to them without them disappearing.

"What are you?" Cole asked one transparent woman who was standing at a bus stop just ten feet from him. She ignored him. Cole stepped closer and she shimmered and vanished.

"You okay?" the voice whispered.

Cole grasped a street sign for support.

"Just fucking perfect," Cole snarled. "I'm crazy, you know that, right?"

"Come on, at least you know I'm real," the voice said reassuringly.

Cole hesitantly let go of the street sign he'd been clinging to. It was true, the voice had answered him when he'd begged for help... He felt like he could barely think straight, but he felt sure that the voice had some kind of power. This invisible girl had made the trees move...

"So then what are you?" Cole asked, looking around for more shades to question.

"I told you, I'm nobody special."

"What's your name, then?"

"I don't have one."

Cole sighed and set off down the sidewalk once again. He was starving, he needed food, not more ghosts. He briefly considered going back to Shane's apartment, assuming she was even there. But... he didn't want to endanger her. Food would have to be obtained elsewhere.

"You're impossible," Cole grumbled.

Soft laughter floated past him as he stared at the outline of the hospital in the distance. That might work...

He wondered if there were still bandits there... As many Reapers and thugs as he'd killed, there always seemed to be more... where were they all coming from? The streets were almost always completely deserted, except for him and these freaks. This city had become terrifying. Gentle, kind laughter didn't seem like it belonged in this scene of destruction and desolation.

"How about this, you can call me whatever you want," the voice offered.

Cole sighed. Should he be naming his hallucination? Well, she did help save his life...

"Samantha, then," Cole said.

"Why that?"

"I don't know, I just pulled it out of my ass," Cole snapped. "First thing that popped into my head."

"Okay."

Cole kept going towards the hospital. Maybe the hospital was empty of bandits now, just maybe... And if it was empty, maybe he could get some food and medicine there.

He kept moving. This whole place felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for the next move to be played. But Cole almost didn't want to know what the next move was going to be. Kessler was still out there, doing God only knew what... Cole didn't know what he wanted anymore.

He wanted to end this madness so Shane could be safe. He wanted to find out what the voice really was. And he wanted to leave this place. Would he... no, could he stay alive long enough to do any of those things? Maybe, but he couldn't do it alone. Well, there was Shane, hiding out in her apartment...

_She could help you, if you let her..._ that was what the voice had advised him to do. But it still didn't feel right, even though the girl was obviously skilled at moving around without detection... what other skills did she really have? What if he couldn't protect her?

"Are you going to stay with me, Sam?" Cole mumbled.

_If I'm crazy, might as well just go with it. And at least I don't have to worry about getting you killed._

The breeze brushed his cheek, like a kiss.

"Of course," Sam whispered.

"And are you going to tell me what you are?"

"I'm your friend," the voice reminded him.

That evasive answer shouldn't have made him feel a whole lot better, but for some reason it did.

_I have two friends now. Sam and Shane. I'm on a roll. _

As Cole passed an intersection, a traffic camera zoomed in on him.

/

A large, black haired man sat in a dark room staring at the monitor, watching Cole cross the street without bothering to look both ways. Lucky for him, there weren't any cars to watch out for.

Cole's mouth was moving, as if he were speaking... but nobody was in earshot of him. The kid was talking to himself.

The black haired man growled. Kessler's experiment was a bloody waste of time. The boss had made the sphere, blown apart a major city, and for what? The kid was clearly losing his grip. He was powerful, yes, but unstable. The black haired man was bitter. Some kid had this power, and he could barely handle it. It was pathetic.

Kessler should have let him activate the sphere, not some random kid... The man heard the door open behind him. Heavy footsteps could be heard.

"Kessler," he growled in greeting. "Your little experiment is unstable."

"Do explain," the boss's voice oozed past his ears.

The black haired man jabbed a finger at the screen. Cole's mouth was moving again.

"He's talking to himself. This _boy _is mentally unfit to be any kind of weapon!"

Kessler strolled farther into the dark room, peering intently at the screen. After a minute of observing his specimen, a twisted smile spread across his face.

"So... you survived after all," Kessler said finally, an insane light in his eyes.

The black haired man simply stared, wondering if he and Kessler were seeing the same thing.

"I don't suppose you saw the footage of the ray sphere in action, did you?" Kessler said, his metal limb twitching. The man eyed Kessler's robotic arm warily. The boss had powers too, stronger than anything the underling had ever seen... no one knew exactly what the extent of his strength was.

"I saw it," the man said simply.

"Hm, I would guess you didn't watch carefully enough, Travis," Kessler said in a condescending tone. "This is why you don't make the decisions."

Kessler's hand shot out, grasping the man's neck from behind, forcing his face towards the screen where Cole could be seen looking around like he was worried he was being followed.

"Tell me what you see," Kessler demanded.

"A nutcase!" Travis spat, straining against his boss's iron grip.

"You know what I see?" the madman hissed. "I see a mistake."

Kessler released his underling, flinging him to the side of the room. Travis glared at him.

"This whole thing is a mistake!" the black haired man insisted, clenching his fists. "You should have given the ray sphere to me!"

"You?" Kessler sneered, baring his crooked, sharp teeth. "What makes you worthy of such power?"

"What makes _him_ worthy of power!" the underling all but screamed. Cole was now ambling out of site of the camera, wobbling unsteadily. The young man looked for all the world as if he were about to drop dead right then and there.

Kessler wasn't even phased by the question. His large, blank eyes simply watched as his experiment wandered away.

"I have seen it. I have confirmed my information from a more... unconventional source," Kessler said simply. Then he blinked, flexing his metallic fingers. "But for now, we have a little problem. As you said, there has been an... accident."

"I never said..." Travis began slowly. An accident? What accident? "He's unstable, that's the problem! We'll never be able to use him in the state he's in."

Kessler held up a finger for silence.

"Yes, his powers are growing stronger... the boy sees the electrical after images of human lives," Kessler explained, still in that condescending tone. "But those are not what he is speaking to, no... he is speaking to a mistake. An accident."

Then the truth hit him. An accident... a mistake. Something that should not have happened. The kid wasn't insane. The black haired man glanced back at the monitor. The trees were swaying gently in the wind. Empire city was almost always breezy, but wind didn't normally change direction completely at random.

No one had known exactly what the ray sphere would do once activated, except that it would bestow powers. Apparently Cole wasn't the only one who had gotten a taste of power...

"I want you to investigate this further," Kessler growled. "We must find out whether this is something that needs to be taken care of."

Kessler also spared a glance for the leaves dancing in the wind as they were broken off tree branches, almost as if an invisible hand were plucking them off one by one...

"Or... if this is something we can use to our advantage."

Finally, Travis grinned. This was why he'd been hired. Unlike science experiments and observation, stalking prey was right up his alley. Now to locate this mistake, and see what he could learn.


	10. Chapter 10

Cole was wandering the streets, heading for the hospital. He was passing the fountain at Archer's square when he spotted the sick people. People who looked even worse than he felt. They were gathered around the fountain, some laying on the ground covered in dirt, some puking into the bushes. Cole began to back away.

Then he saw her. An angel in skinny jeans and an army jacket, wandering down the sidewalk, barely paying any attention to the black vomit covered zombies moaning around the fountain.

"Hey!" he called out to her, his voice cracking from lack of use. She didn't look up. He had to get her attention before she disappeared on him again.

"Hey!" he said a bit louder, after clearing his throat. Her head jerked up and her blue eyes locked on to his. The frown on her face was replaced with something softer. She motioned for him to come over. Cole tripped over his own feet crossing the street. He did his best to pretend nothing had happened.

So many questions were swirling in his head as he approached her. He wanted to ask why she ran off on him the other day. He wanted to ask if they both happened to have an imaginary friend. Eventually he settled on the most pertinent question at the moment...

"What are you doing out here?" he asked as soon as he got close. She sighed and ruffled a hand through her hair.

"Helping the paramedics," she said after a moment. "There are people with cancer who need their blood work run so I offered to do it for them. It's about the only thing I can do, I'm not much of a nurse."

"So you're going to the hospital?" Cole asked. A chill raked his body and he shivered. Shane didn't seem to notice.

"I have to," she said. "There's no other way I can do it."

"You can't go there! There's bandits there!" Cole blurted out, his hands twitching as he remembered the men he'd killed there. "Besides, I don't know if the power at the hospital has come back on..."

Shane cursed, pulling little purple topped tubes of blood out of her pocket.

"Then what am I supposed to do..." she said, tilting her head back.

"I could go with you..." Cole offered after a moment. "I'm not doing anything else."

Shane shook her head, stuffing the blood back in her pocket.

"You don't have to do that," she said, continuing towards the hospital. "I have to see if the power still works. The instruments might still be functional."

"I'll go with you," Cole said again. "I owe you for, um... saving me. Again." He hoped the back of his neck wasn't red.

"No," she said under her breath, not meeting his eyes. "You could get hurt." Cole eyes widened slightly.

"I could get hurt? Are you serious? Have you looked in a mirror lately? What are you, ninety pounds soaking wet?" Cole said incredulously. Shane's mouth twitched, but she consented to pause to continue talking to him. She stopped and turned to face him, peering into his eyes. She frowned.

"You're sick," she said after a minute of staring at him.

"Why, because I want to make sure you don't get yourself killed?" he mumbled.

"No, I mean you're physically sick," she said, reaching up to touch his forehead. A moan escaped his lips without permission, her hand was blissfully cool and felt amazing against his skin.

"You have a fever," she said, now a touch of concern in her voice. "Okay, I give up. You can come with me."

"Oh," Cole said, slightly taken aback at her abrupt change of mind. "Okay, I will."

"I have ibuprofen in my locker at the hospital. You need some," she said.

Cole fell in line beside her as she continued on her way. He wanted to start some kind of neutral conversation with her, but his brain felt like it had turned to soup in his skull and he couldn't think of a good topic.

"So I take it you never went home?" she asked him suddenly. "You were sleeping on a park bench."

Okay, his neck was definitely burning. She obviously thought he was incapable of taking care of himself, since she'd had to save him twice now. How to explain sleeping on a park bench... He considered telling her his fears about how his old apartment would be haunted, but he didn't want to sound crazy.

"No, I never went home," he said simply after a minute. And soon after a different thought burst from his mouth. Maybe it was a result of the fever, but he spat out quickly, "How do you know me?"

Shane didn't miss a beat.

"From dragging your heavy ass up seven flights of stairs."

"No, you know me from somewhere but I just can't remember!" Cole rambled.

"You're delirious," she replied without even looking at him. That ticked him off.

"No I'm not!" he roared. That got her attention. Shane stopped to look at him, an expression of mild shock on her face. Cole was breathing hard.

"Cole, just relax," Shane said, raising her hands in front of her as if to ward him off.

"I am relaxed," he hissed. He could feel his face turning red. "I want to know how you know me."

"If we knew each other before I found you in that alley, why wouldn't you remember it?" Shane questioned reasonably.

"Well..." Cole said, momentarily stumped. He tried to marshal a counter argument. Her voice was just so damn familiar. He must have met her before...

"Listen, let's keep going, okay? Maybe you'll remember as we walk," she said.

Cole was already feeling foolish, so he nodded. But he knew he wouldn't remember. If he could have remembered, he would have by now. Still... he was starting to doubt himself. What if he was imagining this feeling that he knew Shane from before?

The hospital loomed in front of them, sad and silent. Cole swallowed hard. Were the bodies of those men he'd killed still rotting in the lobby? Maybe once he entered the doors, they'd rise from the dead and attack him.

"Cole? Hello? Are you in there?" A hand was waving in front of his face.

"Yeah," he said, his voice sounding dry. "I'm here. Is there another way in?"

"I guess," she said. "Why?"

"Can we use the back door?"

"Um, sure? This way."

Shane led the way around the side of the building. She pulled her ID badge out of her jacket pocket and swiped it through the scanner. The door unlocked itself and the two of them slipped inside.

The hallway inside was pitch dark and lacked a ceiling, so that the pipes and wires twisting above them were exposed. Cole let his arms spark to provide some light.

"Don't touch the walls. There's still asbestos down here."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. This is an old building."

"Great. Just what we needed. Asbestos."

Cole saw Shane grinning in the dim light.

They crept down the narrow halls, Cole half expecting bandits with guns to ambush them at any moment. But nothing happened. He'd never thought that underneath this hospital were so many twisting corridors.

"Have you noticed... the Reapers?" Cole asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Shane responded instantly. "How could I not?"

"No, I mean... I've killed a lot of them," Cole said quickly. He immediately felt guilty. He wondered if Sam was listening to their conversation. "But there's always more. Have you noticed?"

Shane turned to face him. Her blue eyes reflected the electricity on his limbs. Those wide eyes danced with sparks.

"Yes," she whispered. Then she kept walking. Cole felt strangely validated. At least that was one thing he wasn't imagining...

Shane led the way until they encountered another door with a sign on it that read "Biohazard: Authorized Personnel Only."

Shane swiped her badge again and the door buzzed, admitting them. Cole's first thought was that this place was only slightly less creepy than the morgue would have been. The rooms beyond the door were full of gleaming white machines. A large walk in refrigerator was full of racks of little tubes like the ones in Shane's pocket. Up against one wall was a smaller glass door refrigerator full of bags of donor blood. Shane swept between the rows of machines until she found the one she wanted. She switched it on and the machine hummed to life.

"Here," she said, beckoning to him. "You need some medicine."

Cole, who felt so out of place in this room, followed her without complaint. Around the corner was the break room and lockers. Shane unlocked her locker and dug him out a few pills, which he was so desperate for at that point that he swallowed them dry.

"Thanks," he said as she pressed the entire bottle into his hand. He slipped it in his pocket, feeling grateful.

"No problem. You can wait in there if you want," she said, pointing towards the break room.

"No. I have to stay with you," Cole said firmly. He saw Shane quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Okay," she said, walking back to the machine that was warming up. "It's pretty boring though."

She booted up the computer sitting on the work bench, and then set the tubes of blood from her pocket on the machine, which sucked them up.

"So is this what you do all day?" Cole asked, looking around the room again.

"Yup," Shane answered, typing at the computer. She glanced at the machine. "This shouldn't take long, there's only those two samples."

"I can, uh..." Cole began, looking around at the dimly lit space. "I can keep a lookout."

"Alright," Shane said, still intent on her work. No sooner had that word left her mouth that the lights overhead snapped out and music began playing over the intercom.

"What the..." Cole began, before Shane grabbed his hand and pulled him down behind the bench.

"Shh!" she said, placing her hand over his mouth to silence any protests.

"What's the big deal?" he mumbled through her fingers. "Sounds like your system is on the fritz."

"No," she whispered. "It's not. Music never plays over the intercom. _Never._ Somebody set this up. Somebody who doesn't work here."

Cole felt his muscles tense instantly. Somebody was here. He peered into the darkness, feeling Shane's cold hand on his arm. The sound of the printer next to them nearly made him piss himself. Shane reached up and pocketed the print outs.

"I told you this was a bad idea," he hissed. "You've got what you needed, now let's go."

Cole hoped with all his heart that Samantha was nearby. They might need her help...

Cole helped Shane to her feet. But as soon as they started to move, a hand emerged from the darkness next to them and grasped Shane's skinny arm, pulling her out of sight.

"What have we got here," said a greasy voice. Cole didn't even hesitate for a moment. His mouth open in a snarl, he lit his arms up with lightning with the intention of scaring off whoever it was. The light from his arms allowed him a good look at the thug who was already holding a knife to Shane's neck. He wasn't much to look at, but that didn't matter. He had to go.

"Let her go and I won't have to hurt you," he snarled, raising his hand.

"You're that Demon," the guy said, a squeak of fear in his greasy voice. He gave a little nervous laugh. "Too bad, Demon. My friends got their guns on you. You make one move and they'll shoot."

"What's your point?" Cole spat, not even looking around even though he could hear other people approaching. "Let her go."

Shane was looking bored and sort of dejected. That was weird. Cole saw the knife shaking in the guy's hand. The guy licked his lips before he replied.

"I'll make you a deal, Demon," he said slowly. "You let me keep this girl and my friends won't blow your head off."

Cole growled, glancing at Shane again. She blinked serenely at him.

"It's okay, Cole," she said calmly, but with a kind of exasperated note in her voice. "You can go. Just take these to the paramedic on Walnut Street," she added, holding out the sheets of paper form the printer.

"No," he said, his voice shaking in anger. "You're coming with me."

"You wanna die, boy?" said a voice behind him. Cole heard the click of the hammer of a gun. He'd been shot before and lived, but had no desire to find out if he could survive a gunshot to his skull.

"Cole," Shane said, waving the papers at him. "Just take these and go."

Cole still hesitated. But something about the look Shane was giving him made him reach out and take the papers. She had a plan. What kind of plan he didn't know, and that made him nervous. The guy holding Shane began leading her away, the knife still at her throat. Three others filed behind him, their guns still trained on Cole. But Cole only had eyes for the tiny blonde girl being pulled along.

_Some lookout you were, MacGrath._

They were nearing another door at the end of the hall and Cole still hadn't made a move. The four of them plus Shane disappeared through the door, leaving Cole alone with his guilt. Maybe the ibuprofen was finally kicking in, but his thoughts felt clearer than they had all day. Was he really just going to walk out of here, leaving that girl with those sick thugs? Hell no.

He ran forward like a bat out of hell. When he reached the door he banged on it and yelled at the top of his voice:

"I changed my mind! I want my friend back, assholes!"

"Get lost, Demon!" came the response. "We're trying to have a little fun with your friend here."

"Fucking bastards!" Cole howled in frustration, sending bolts of power into the door. The metal crackled and sparked but the latch held. "Open this door and fight me! You wanted to shoot me a second ago, so open this fucking door!"

"Are you deaf, Demon?" came a second voice. "We ain't fighting you!"

"Go, Cole!" came Shane's muffled voice. "Just get out of he... aaah!" her voice was suddenly cut off.

"Shane!" Cole screamed, banging on the door again, but it still wouldn't yield. "Argh! Open this door and give her back to me and I might let you leave here alive!"

There was silence from the other side of the door. Then a scuffling sound.

"Where is she?"

Cole froze with his fist half way to the door, about to bang on it again. What was that supposed to mean, where is she?

"You let her get away?"

"No, man, she was right here!"

"Well she ain't there now, idiot!"

Cole listened to the men argue with baited breath. How on earth had Shane managed to slip away right out from under their noses? And where did she go?

"Psst!"

Cole thought he was having a heart attack. He turned on the spot, sure that his fever must have gone through the roof and he was now hallucinating because of it. He had to be, because unless his eyes were deceiving him, Shane was peeking out at him from behind the door at the other end of the hall. She gestured frantically for him to come over.

Cole spared one brief glance at the door behind which the men were still arguing before sprinting down the hall towards her pale, anxious face.

Before he could even open his mouth to ask what the hell was going on, Shane had grabbed his hand and was pulling him down the hall behind her. He grunted as she pulled on his arm, not because she weighed very much, but because of how very hard she was pulling on him. But he had more pressing issues on his mind.

"How the fuck did you get out of there," he hissed, gazing still somewhat stunned at the back of her head. "Not that I'm complaining..."

"Later!" she breathed back, leading him through the maze of dark hallways. A second later she took a sharp turn and Cole, hardly able to see because he couldn't light up his hands without electrocuting Shane, smacked his head on a low hanging pipe.

"Ouch! Fuck!" he said, now dragging his feet and holding his free hand to his head. Shane stopped abruptly.

"Sorry!" she said hastily. "You okay?"

Cole groaned, his headache soaring to exponential levels. That's when Shane copied him and said, "Ouch!"

She shook off his hand. Even through his throbbing headache, Cole realized that he'd just shocked her.

"Sorry," he groaned through his pain, now copying her. "I didn't mean it."

"It's okay," she said, rubbing her hand. "We have to keep going, we're almost out."

"Ugh," he moaned, feeling like his head was being split with an axe. "Okay, but I can walk myself."

"There they are!" came a shout from behind Shane's back. The skinny girl jumped, turning towards the source of the noise, but she barely had time to do anything else. A small rectangular object flew towards them, striking the girl hard in the head. He watched her fall in slow motion as she tilted sideways, sliding down the concrete wall.

Cole was vaguely aware of making a sound of outrage as he watched her crumple to the floor. The object, which he now saw was a brick, had cut a large gash in her forehead. He looked up, rage burning in his heart. He flew forward, lightning gathering around his fingertips. Anger left no room for guilt as lightning bolts flew from his hands towards the figures, even as gunshots rang out in that narrow hallway. They were terrible shots though, because not a single bullet hit him. Cole, on the other hand, had only improved his aim.

How satisfying was it to watch them fall, dead at his feet. Cole suddenly froze, dead in his tracks, horribly aware of that feeling of satisfaction.

_What am I doing? I'm not a murderer!_

But the evidence was all over the floor. He didn't know what he was becoming. These hadn't been reapers... but they were still a threat, he reasoned with himself. They had guns. They would have hurt his new friend... no, they had to die. Maybe if they hadn't been in quarantine like this, he could have called the police, but the police could barely function anymore... this was about survival.

He spun around, trying to divert his attention from his morbid thoughts. Shane was still lying slumped over against the wall like a rag doll. Cole went over to her and touched her arm. The gash on her forehead was trickling blood down her cheek. He didn't know what to do to help her.

"Hey," he said loudly, feeling awkward as his voice echoed around in the tight space. She didn't respond. He grasped her other arm, intending to pull her up off the floor, when he felt a pulse surge through the two of them. He dropped her in surprise. That jolted her out of unconsciousness. Not the way he had meant to wake her up, but oh well...

The first thing out of her mouth was a cuss word.

"Fuck," she groaned, attempting to lift herself up. "My head hurts."

"Welcome to the club," Cole said, hesitantly offering her his hand to help her up. She didn't hesitate, however. She grasped his hand. "You okay?"

"Ugh," she said, putting her other hand to her head. "Barely."

She peered around his broad shoulders.

"They're gone?" she said uncertainly. Cole noticed her free arm drifting from her head to cover her small chest. Had they touched her? The thought pissed him off, but he held himself back from asking her if they had.

"Yeah," was all he said.

She nodded. Then she smiled at him, wiping her wound with the back of her hand, smearing the blood across her face.

"Thanks for coming back for me. That was really brave," she said. Cole could feel a blush working it's way up his neck. It only heightened his embarrassment when he realized that she once again wasn't calling him a monster or a murderer. It occurred to him that even though she'd tried to keep him from coming here with her in the first place, that she was in fact glad that he was here.

"Yeah, but I didn't really do anything," he muttered, helping her to stand.

"Sure you did," she said, struggling to her feet. Cole held her arm to steady her. He searched his pockets for a tissue or something to help her clean off the blood. He came up with half a roll of toilet paper. It was kind of gross from being in his pocket, but Shane didn't seem to mind. She wiped her face with a wad of it.

"Um, did I get it all?" she asked. She gazed at him with those wide blue eyes, and for a moment Cole didn't see a girl trying to be distant from him. He saw a girl about his age looking for his help, even if it was with something as simple as getting blood off her face.

"Y-you missed some," he said, painfully aware of his stutter. He took a piece of the dirty paper from her small hands. He barely managed to keep his hand steady as he gently wiped the rest of the blood from her forehead.

"Thanks," she said softly. She braced herself against him for a moment as Cole helped to steady her. She smelled really nice, a lot better than he did. But as he held her, he felt a little guilty. Almost like he was cheating on Samantha... which was totally crazy. He was _not_ about to start dating his imaginary friend.

"Well," she said slowly, sounding a little out of it. "We can, uh, go now. If you want."

"Yeah," he readily agreed. "We really should before anything else happens."

She flashed a smile at him and Cole felt a warmth inside. His hands sparked. A minute later they exited the hospital, Cole lighting their way. Shane turned to him once they were down the driveway.

"Thanks for coming with me, Cole," she said. She surprised him by slipping between his arms and hugging him around the chest. She could barely reach halfway around him. "I can take it from here."

"Wait," he blurted out. "You need to tell me how you got away from those assholes."

He almost regretting asking as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Shane bit her lip, looking nervous.

"I couldn't have without you, really," she said after a moment. "You distracted them long enough for me to slip away. I know every inch of that basement."

"Yeah, but..." Cole said doubtfully, unsure if his fever was still affecting him or not. "How did you get behind me without me seeing you?"

"Through the sterile processing department," she said, not quite meeting his eyes. She was lying, he was sure of it. But why? He was just curious how she had disappeared right out from under the noses of those thugs. That was pretty impressive. Maybe she was a secret ninja or something. It didn't make sense why she would lie about this. But he decided not to push her.

"Okay," he said. "I was just wondering. It uh... definitely surprised me."

"I'd say, of the two of us, you're probably the more surprising one," she said playfully, grinning at him.

There it was again. That warmth in his stomach. Why was this girl being so nice to him? Everybody else in the city was treating him like a plague bearing rat that needed to be stomped out. The gash in her head was glistening with little droplets of blood again. He realized he was staring and looked up at the sky like he was interested in the weather.

"Well I need to get these results back," she said, tilting her head to one side as she regarded him observing the sky. She touched his elbow in a gesture of farewell. "Thanks again, Cole." She smiled and started on her way down the sidewalk.

It occurred to Cole as he watched his only flesh and blood friend walk away that she was purposely keeping things from him. Then again, so was Samantha. Maybe his two friends didn't trust him... no, that wasn't it. So then what was it?

As Cole swept off to look for food once again, he failed to notice a large brute of a man emerge from the shadow of a building and begin following Shane towards Walnut Street.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I sure hope all this makes sense... I swear I am going somewhere with all this lol.

Thanks to my two reviewers! So happy you like this! Hope I don't disappoint...

/

What a pretty little thing, Travis thought as he stalked Shane down the street. Finding this little mistake had been much too simple. Travis had wondered how he would find an invisible girl... But Cole had led him right to her. At least, Travis assumed she was the one. He watched as she walked easily down the sidewalk, humming a happy little tune to herself.

It was just something in the way she walked, the way her silver blonde hair shined as the sun hit it... True, there was a nasty gash on her forehead, but it hardly diminished her attractiveness.

Travis snorted to himself, pulling his hood up over his head. He'd seen her hugging Cole before she'd left him... did she have a thing for him, for that unstable experimental specimen? Whatever, didn't matter.

He kept following her, always keeping at least a block behind. However it wasn't long before her footsteps began to slow. He saw her pressing her hands to her chest like she was worried her heart would fall out if she didn't hold it in. She had long since stopped humming to herself.

Shane turned down an alley and Travis grinned to himself. She was making this way too easy... He turned the corner, but then immediately ducked down behind a dumpster, because the girl had stopped moving. She was leaning up against the brick wall and panting as if she had just run a marathon.

The wall she was leaning up against had the words _Death to MacGrath _spray painted on it, which Travis found slightly ironic. Shane glanced at the spray paint, then turned away, looking like she was about to be sick. She dug a hand in her pocket, dragging out some papers.

Travis watched, somewhat puzzled, as the girl continued to simply stand there, crushing those papers in her fist. And then it happened. For just a moment, the girl completely disappeared. And then, as if she were nothing but a projected image, her form flickered back into existence.

"Ah..." Travis whispered under his breath, his mouth twisting into a smile. "And what are you, then?"

The papers she'd been holding had fluttered to the ground. Shane bent over to pick them up with shaking hands. The first time she tried to grab them, her hand went right through them. She took a deep breath and tried again. This time, she managed to grasp them. Then she slumped down against an electrical panel box. She appeared to be reading whatever was on the paper.

"Low hemoglobin..." she murmured. "That's not good..."

Travis watched as she pulled out her phone and dialed someone.

"James," she choked, the papers in her hand were shaking so badly Travis wondered how she could read them. "I can't make it back to your station. I have the results of your patients here..."

She began reading out numbers, her voice about as shaky as her hands.

"I'm alright," she said, once she was done with that. "Don't come looking for me. Please. Stay there. Those people need you."

She quickly hung up, grimacing as she stuffed the papers and her phone hastily back into her pocket. As Travis watched, she pulled her knees up to her chest, gripping them tightly. Her eyes were wide and staring, as if she were looking at something absolutely horrifying. But all that was in front of her was a trash can.

"I'm sorry, Cole..." she whispered. She released her knees and drew her army jacket tightly around her. "I don't know what I am. I wish I could help you more... But I can barely help myself."

She stopped talking as it happened again... She shimmered and vanished, then reappeared looking even more terrified. She touched a hand to her abdomen, probing the pale flesh under her shirt.

"Am I dead?" she murmured, letting her head rest on her knees. "I should be dead."

The man's eyes narrowed as he watched her. It seemed like this girl had much less control over her power than the boy did... So she should be dead, huh? Travis privately agreed. Kessler had finally shown him what he'd been missing in the footage of the ray sphere upon its detonation. A tiny girl in a skirt, skewered through the abdomen. A girl who had then disappeared, right in front of Cole.

"Who am I anymore?" she mumbled. "Am I still... me?"

She shivered, curling up almost into a ball. She seemed so tiny, so fragile... Travis sensed that she was struggling to hold herself together. She definitely looked like she could up and vanish at any moment.

"Or am I Samantha?" she finished, sky blue eyes still staring straight ahead. "Which is it?" she hissed through her teeth. "Which one is real?"

Travis wondered, as he watched the girl having her own little existential crisis, how exactly would one go about putting and end to this chick if it came to that. She'd been impaled during the explosion, and judging by the fact that he was now looking at the same girl and she was very clearly _not_ dead... How could she be killed, then?

Travis fingered the gun at his side. Well, Kessler did love experiments...

He had absolutely no problem with killing. He merely viewed it as a means to an end, nothing personal. Sometimes obstacles had to be removed, even if those obstacles happened to be young women.

So what would happen if he gunned her down right here in this dingy alley? If she could survive a metal spike through her stomach, could she survive being shot full of lead? Travis wanted to see her regenerative abilities first hand. Cole's abilities had been observed extensively... their organization had a fairly good idea of what his powers were. But this girl was a mystery. Well, Kessler had said to see what he could learn...

Travis stood up, unhooking his pistol from his belt. This was just as Shane started to move, staggering away from him. Travis raised his gun.

Three shots rang out, slicing through the air, slamming into her back. He heard Shane gasp, her hands going to her chest. She managed one more step before she fell forward, landing face down on the pavement. A red blood stain began creeping over the back of her army jacket.

Shane's hand grasped weakly at the asphalt. Travis stepped forward, eyeing Shane's broken body with interest. A bubble of blood burst at the corner of her mouth.

"Show me what you can do..." he murmured, watching her twitching fingers.

And sure enough, just as the life seemed to go out of her... she began to dissolve. It took mere seconds, and she had broken apart and vanished, leaving behind nothing but a small blood smear on the ground. Travis grinned. So it was true... then... this was incredible! The girl might not have the raw power of the boy, but... she'd practically gained immortality! She couldn't be killed, at least not by conventional means.

Travis was still standing there contemplating all the fascinating implications of Shane's abilities when the wind picked up.

It started slowly at first... a few loose pieces of newspaper floated by. Then a garbage can got blown over, scattering trash everywhere. Travis's hood was thrown back. He threw up his hands to try and block the dust that was pelting his face.

"Asshole!" the girl's voice howled out of nowhere, sounding agonized. "Oh, I'll show you what I can do!"

An invisible force slammed Travis against a wall, as if a giant hand had punched him in the chest. And then the dumpster he'd been lurking behind started to move. It plowed forward, crashing into his body, crushing him against the side of the building. Travis screamed, struggling to free himself.

"Bitch!" he groaned. "You're fucking dead!"

Shane's cold laughter echoed off the walls. The temperature around him seemed to drop twenty degrees.

"How will you kill me?" she hissed.

Travis still had one arm free. He aimed his gun straight in front of him.

"I'll figure something out," he growled. He thought he saw a form beginning to solidify in front of him... a female body with wings... he fired his gun. Bullets punched holes in the wall in front of him, but the figure merely bared its teeth before dissolving back into mist.

"I'll see you in hell then, won't I?" the girl's voice snarled.

Travis felt the pressure on his body increasing... This chick was going to crush him to death. He'd end up a grease smear on an alley wall. It occurred to him that he may have made a mistake provoking this girl when he didn't know exactly what she could do... Bullets couldn't harm her... but maybe he could manipulate her into releasing him.

"You kill me now, my friends kill your new boyfriend," Travis spat, his lungs straining to get enough air.

The pressure on his body stopped increasing. Then it completely halted, allowing Travis to slip out from between the wall and the dumpster.

"You hurt him... and I'll rip you into a thousand pieces," Shane's voice hissed in his ear.

"Tell me what you are, and we won't hurt him," Travis wheezed, bracing himself against the wall. No need to tell her that nobody in his organization had any intentions of destroying Cole, not when he was such an important investment of time and money.

A cold blast of air hit him in the face, sending him careening sideways until he tripped and fell to the ground.

"What an interesting question!" the girl shrieked, sounding slightly hysterical. "I'm afraid I don't know! If you figure it out, do let me know, won't you?! In the meantime, you and your group of thugs stay away from us, or I'll make your death far more painful than being crushed into a pancake!"

The wind rushed by him and then died down. Travis simply sat there on the ground, wondering how many of his ribs were broken. Kessler was going to be pissed... He was only supposed to investigate the girl, not get into a fight with her.

_You may not know what you are, but I think I do. _

Because now Travis had witnessed her powers firsthand. She could dissolve into nothing but mist, she could control the wind... Even though he'd somewhat botched this mission, he'd still learned one thing... Just as Cole had been bonded to a specific element, so had the girl... The girl, it seemed, had been bonded to the air itself.

No wonder she was so afraid...

/

Cole was walking towards the park, a slightly smashed can of soup in hand. He popped the top on it, sipping it cold.

Before he knew it, he was at the graveyard. One other man was there, kneeling by a homemade cross. He didn't even look up as Cole approached the grave he'd dug for Trish.

Shades and spirits were everywhere. Cole was a demon among ghosts. Spirits drifted by him as he crouched down by Trish's grave, but for once Cole paid them no attention. He had something else on his mind.

"Hey," he whispered to Trish's picture. Her face looked serenely back at him. It was an old picture, back from when they had first started dating, and she was actually happy...

He'd come here to see Trish, to tell her all the things he'd never gotten a chance to say before she'd died. But now that he was actually here, he wasn't sure how to put those thoughts into words. Maybe he just wasn't meant to have closure with her...

Either way, she was dead. There was no getting her back. Maybe if he wasn't trapped in a God forsaken city with lunatics and bandits and a populace hungry for his blood, he could have spent a month moping and grieving... but this new city wouldn't allow it. Time to get this shit off his chest. It was now or never.

"Look, Trish... I'm sorry for how things fell apart between us," Cole mumbled to the makeshift cross. "I hope wherever you are now, you know the truth. I... I loved you. I really did."

He paused. Sam might be here, listening to him pouring his feelings out like a heartsick teenager. Then he decided he didn't care. He smoothed out the dirt he'd disturbed when he'd buried her, making the surface of the grave nice and even.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," he continued, staring at her smiling face. "But I know who my friends are... Shane cared about me when no one else would, not even you."

He took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of rain and soil, trying to soothe the anger building up inside him. Glancing upward, he saw storm clouds gathering. He had to control his emotions before he stirred up another disaster... It had been a while since he'd had the energy and the emotion to cause a storm like he had at Archer's square. But that didn't mean that it couldn't happen again...

"That really hurt, you know," he added, clenching his empty can of soup so tightly his knuckles turned white. "It hurt when you couldn't trust me..."

Something rustled nearby. Cole quickly scanned the area for potential threats. A spirit was standing near him, looking at a grave site. Cole shuddered and looked away. He'd have to keep moving soon before any Reapers spotted him. Not that he was too worried if they did... His abilities only seemed to be growing, and his fever had gone down.

Killing Reapers hadn't fixed anything. They just kept coming. The only options left to him now were 'escape this city' or 'lay down and die.' Cole preferred the first option.

"I'm going to try and help her escape with me," he continued. "I don't know how we're going to do it, but... well, yeah. That's my plan," he finished lamely. "I just wanted to say goodbye."

Cole reached into his pocket and set a small bundle of clover flowers on the grave site. One last peace offering to her spirit. She hadn't come back to haunt him yet, but he didn't want to take the chance.

He stood up, feeling the air beginning to move around him. So, Sam had been listening... He'd started to understand something about the voice... whatever she was, she used the wind to travel.

He expected to hear some curious comment or question hitting his ears, but instead he heard something he'd never heard before... sniffling. The voice was crying.

"Um..." Cole said hesitantly, unsure of what to do. Was Sam crying because of what he'd just said to Trish's grave, or was it something else? "What's up?" he added weakly.

"Sorry," the voice whispered shakily. "Bad day."

How does a disembodied voice have a bad day?

"You okay?" he asked, feeling the air twisting around his body, like it was trying to grip him, or maybe trying to hold him. The voice was real, but... what was it? Samantha wasn't a ghost, that was one thing he was sure of.

"Cole..." Sam began faintly. "If I had a body... would you still want me around?"

Cole wasn't sure where she was going with this... was she thinking about Shane? Was it possible that the voice was jealous? Cole felt a little bit bad about that. Both girls had helped him a lot...

If he was being honest, he liked both girls. Maybe he was just gravitating towards Shane because she had a body. She was somebody he could see, and somebody he could touch.

"Yeah," Cole said, knowing full well that if Sam was flesh and blood, he couldn't just leave her behind after all she'd done for him. "I would. But we're sticking together, okay?"

"Yeah?" Sam mumbled.

"You drive me crazy, but I wouldn't leave you behind," Cole said, a smile tugging at his mouth. "I don't care that you don't have a body."

"Thank you," Same whispered. "And if you're really planning on escaping... I'll help you as much as I can."

Cole nodded, sensing a pressure against the palm of his hand. Was Sam trying to hold hands with him? He flexed his fingers, hoping to feel something... Then a thought occurred to him.

"Hey, when you said that Shane could help me..." he began, but then he stopped. The one other man who had been kneeling by another homemade cross had suddenly stood up. The man turned to face Cole.

Black gunk was dripping from his mouth. There was a crazed look in his eye that Cole could see even from fifty feet.

"Cole," Sam began in a low voice, "You need to leave now."

Cole began to back away. But that man had been acting normal just a second ago...

And then a single thought snapped into place in his head. Maybe it was his proximity to her grave, but Trish's words came back to him now... He'd known about this all along! How could he have forgotten? Trish had said when he'd first woken up... _People start vomiting black fluid, and they get very weak and disoriented... and then go absolutely crazy. They start attacking other people. _She had been describing the Reapers.

"Shit," he said, all the horrifying pieces falling into place in his mind. "The sick people... they're becoming the Reapers, aren't they?"

Cole could kill this guy now... but... he'd been in mourning here too. His face was wet.

"You mean you hadn't noticed?" Sam whispered. He could feel the wind pushing at him, urging him to move faster.

Cole started to run. He sprinted out of the park at top speed, wind cutting through his ragged clothes. A frustrated howl followed him... Cole glanced over his shoulder. The man was following him, but at a much slower pace. Cole turned down another street, breaking the man's line of sight with him.

"You've got to find some place to hide!" Sam hissed. "That one will call the others!"

Cole quickly took in his surroundings. Any building he went inside, he ran the chance of running into more Reapers or bandits. They tended to lurk in places like that.

And then he saw his old apartment building. He still had a key to Trish's place, but he decided he wasn't that desperate... yet.

"In there!" the voice breathed in his ear. "It's still inhabited by normal people."

"I can't go in there!" Cole snapped back.

"Why the hell not?!" Sam's voice shrieked at him. "You want to live, don't you?"

Cole grit his teeth.

Well, he'd just tried to make his peace with Trish... maybe if he hid there for a day, her ghost wouldn't terrorize him. And he could change out of his shredded clothes, and maybe trim his beard... Steeling himself, Cole wrenched open the front door and dashed inside, scaring a middle aged woman half to death. She shrieked at the sight of him and cowered behind the front desk.

"Jesus!" Cole cursed. He veered off course, heading for the stairs. "You didn't see me!" he shouted back at her as the door slammed shut behind him.

Cole tried to open multiple apartment doors, hoping to avoid his own, but of course every single goddamn one of them was locked.

Cole ran up the stairs and down the hall to apartment 507A, slamming his hand into his pocket for the front door key. Before he knew it, he was slumped against the inside of the apartment door, trying to catch his breath. Cole pinched his eyes shut, not sure if he wanted to see the inside of this place again. What if he opened his eyes, and Trish's ghost was ready to rip him a new one?

Crap. What was he thinking coming back here?

"It's alright," Sam said gently. "I don't think they followed you in. You can relax."

"Look, you don't get it," Cole seethed. "I didn't want to come back here."

"Sorry... I didn't know this was your old place," Sam mumbled, sounding embarrassed.

"It's okay..." Cole began slowly. "Just don't go anywhere. Please." He didn't want to face this place alone, and a disembodied voice was better than no company at all.

"I'm not going anywhere," Sam reassured him. Cole exhaled slowly. He would have to move sometime... _See you later, sanity. I held onto you for as long as I could. It was nice knowing you..._ He opened his eyes.

And there was nothing. Cole breathed a sigh of relief. He got to his feet, and his first move was the go to the kitchen and see if there was any food left... he was starving. Cole dug around in the cabinets, coming up with a box of granola bars.

"Do you, uh... eat anything?" he asked Sam, one hand already in the box. The voice snorted, causing a blast of air to blow the cabinet door shut.

"Do I look like I eat anything?" she said sarcastically. "Would be nice, though..."

Cole didn't respond except to quickly devour two of the bars and stash the rest of them in his pocket for later. A shower and a change of clothes was next on his agenda. He did _not_ want to stay in what was sure to be the perfect place to lose his sanity for longer than he had to.

"If I get in the shower, do you promise to stay out here?" Cole asked, shedding his blood stained jacket.

"Does it matter? You've already stripped in front of me," Sam said happily.

"Thanks for the reminder," Cole grumbled, tugging off his muddy sneakers. "That was your fault anyway, you made me think I'd gone off the deep end."

"Oh sure, blame me when I was only trying to help," Sam said, and Cole imagined her to be pouting.

"Whatever," Cole mumbled. He decided he had bigger things to worry about than whether or not his imaginary friend saw him without clothes on. He went into the bathroom and began stripping off his shredded, bloody, muddy and filthy clothes until he was standing naked in front of the mirror.

Despite his healing abilities, he still had that damn scar on his face that made him look like a thug. His hazel eyes had a haunted look to them, like he'd seen just one ghost too many. Cole frowned, dragging his fingers through his tangled beard.

_I had an idea of how my life would turn out, and I never thought I'd be a mutant freak who lives on the streets because I'm afraid to go back to my own apartment. Oh, and I'm being followed around by a voice. I have got to find Shane and get the hell out of here..._

Cole shook his head. The more he thought about his situation, the more pissed off he got. He got in the shower, cleaning himself as fast as possible to give Sam less time to gawk at him. The water sizzled on his skin as he shocked himself again and again.

_Calm down, _he told himself sternly. Easier said than done. Lightning bounced around in the tub with him until he was done.

Wrapping a towel firmly around his waist, he went into the bedroom, determinedly not looking at Trish's things. He quickly grabbed some clean underwear, jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt and put them on.

"Sam," Cole sighed, pulling on clean socks. "You can come out now."

"Um, I never went anywhere?" Sam's response echoed in the quiet room. "You told me not to."

"Well, we're leaving," Cole snapped, feeling the back of his neck burning. "I am not staying here, and the Reapers are probably gone now."

"But it's getting dark out... maybe you'd want to sleep some place warm tonight?"

If Sam had been visible, Cole would have glared at her. As it was, he settled for scowling at the darkness spreading outside the window.

"I can't," he spat.

"Listen, it's alright," Sam said gently. "I promise I won't leave. I'll be here when you wake up. Then we can go."

Cole glanced at the bedroom. The bed was made as if Trish had just been in there... He couldn't sleep in there. No way. It would hurt too much. But Sam was right, it would be nice to sleep some place warm for once. He hadn't slept in a warm home since Shane had saved his life...

"Fine," Cole consented, sitting heavily on the couch, which he knew from experience that he barely fit on when lying down. "But as soon as it's daylight again, I'm gone."

"Works for me," Sam said, a light breeze brushing his cheek.

Cole curled up on his side, staring at the moonlight coming in through the window. He'd spent many nights on this couch, banished to the living room after fights with Trish... Cole didn't want to close his eyes. He feared that if he closed his eyes... yeah, that's when Trish's ghost would come out and kill him. It'd be like a horror movie, his blood splattered all over the apartment walls... his severed head in the kitchen sink...

That was when the voice started singing.

It was soft and sweet and soothing... it was a familiar pop song, but the way Sam was singing it made it seem like the most beautiful thing ever written. Almost against his will, Cole felt his anxiety leaving him. His fingers twitched as he felt the air moving around them.

"Am I imagining all this?" Cole mumbled, pressing his face into the couch cushion.

The voice giggled, pausing in her song.

"No, I'm really here," she whispered. He could feel something brushing against his arm.

"What are you, Sam?" Cole muttered, staring out the window, wondering if he'd finally see her... Sam merely continued her song. Cole felt his eyelids growing heavy, listening to her singing. Her voice filled every part of him, erasing his irrational fears,

"I'm your friend," Sam whispered softly once her song was over. "You know me, Cole."


End file.
